The Darker Exterior

Chapter 1

"Three, tall, black Americanos, a grande cappuccino, extra hot with three pumps of vanilla and one pump of hazelnut, a venti pink drink with no berries, a grande iced caramel macchiato, and one trenta cold brew with classic syrup and a shot," I ramble off the extravagant list of coffees I get for the office on Mondays with a quaint smile on my lips. I always felt bad for the workers who made the orders, as I know Mondays could be such a drag.

"Sure thing! How was your weekend?" one of the baristas, Nick I think, asked me, tapping away at the screen in front of him, pushing his small silver-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

"Pretty good! Lots of beauty sleep! What about you?" I ask, pulling my card from my wallet.

"As good as a college student's weekend can go," he responded, wiping his brow with a gentle smile. 

With a diminutive laugh, I tap a ten through the tip box and give the baristas a small wave before walking over to pick up my drinks, which I loaded into my arms, then car, as carefully as possible. It was Monday, so my chances of spilling hot coffee all over me were much higher than the rest of my week, but I always kept an extra outfit in my car just in case. I'm clumsy, but more importantly, I'm prepared. 

My office was on the seventh floor of the building, and carrying the drinks into the elevator had become easier with time, but if my usual parking spot was taken, which it normally was, I had to accept a longer trek through the garage. 

But the smiles on my coworker's faces always made the teetering tower of liquid in my arms worth it.

"Ms. Vidal," Viktor, the doorman gave me a small smile and rushed to my full hands, taking one of the drink carriers from my full arms before pulling the door open for me.

"Hey, Viktor! How was your weekend?" I ask, walking to the elevator just next to the door.

"Oh just as well as it can be Ms. Vidal. My wife and I went on a date to an amazing steak place. Remind me to give you the address, actually," he said, placing the drinks he had eased back onto my arms in a more stable way, taking an americano from the top, "thanks for the coffee, as always. You're quite a treat," he said. 

"Anytime Viktor! If you have time, come on up to my desk. I got the newest issue of Game Informer mailed to me so you can read it on your lunch. That way you're wife won't throw it away," I say as the doors begin to shut.

"As I said, you're a treat, Ms. Vidal. I'll see you soon!" he called, gracing me with a wide smile before he was entirely out of view.

With another smile, I braced myself for the bump of the elevator. One drink down, six more to go.

As I get off of the elevator and begin to stroll down the row of cubicles, coworkers greet me, take their coffee, and make their way back to their place, just like clockwork. What they don't see is the messages I've written on their cups for them, under the sleeves. They normally see them before they're thrown away, but even if they don't, it still means something to them. 

"Aurelia!" one of my closer coworkers, Annie, walks toward me hastily with a smile, taking the last drink, her pink drink, from my hands with a gracious grin, "did you hear the news?" she asks.

"Yes, I know," I say sitting my things on the ground near my desk, "I had to make the reservations. I've known for a week."

"You knew and you didn't tell us?" Annie remarked, crossing her arms with a frown, "I want to know who gets to go and who has to stay back," she whined.

"I couldn't tell you because Ford's up my fucking ass about it," I say with a grimace. Nothing like my boss to ruin my perfect mood.

"Oh, someone is talking bad about the boss again," Nathan, another coworker of mine, says, leaning on the counter of my desk, "I'm telling."