Mera Hero

2. Ain't Nothin' Like Cold Coffee

Shit! I held my breath, almost compressing the steaming cup in my hands in anticipation.

"Come in."

I'm so stupid. Why couldn't I just knock? Like a normal person. I'm such a wuss. Tessa yelled my name once again, leering at me in frustration because I still hadn't entered his office. As my hand gripped the handles to the door, my heart began pumping as if I'd run a marathon. The heart palpitations were clouding my hearing, and I gulped two or three times to clear my ears. I twisted the knob and ducked my head as I entered inside.

"Close the door behind you," his deep, rough voice rumbled and ricocheted off the midnight blue walls of the room. I followed the command, pushing the door closed behind me as gently as I could this time.

As I turned around, I found Mr. James studiously scribbling down words onto one of the many sheets contained in a thick binder, behind his large and sleek noir coloured desk. I peered around the room, taking in the very gloomy and brooding atmosphere. Everything that sat in the room varied from only shades of black. There was a black L-shaped leather sofa that was placed on the left side of the office and two plush Taupe leather chairs that rested in front of the desk. Behind Mr. James was merely a wall of glass panes that were slightly covered by draped curtains, where only a minimal amount of light seeped in. A few wall length bookshelves adorned the right side of the room and files upon files were toppling on top of one another.

Mr. James' gaze kept switching from a chart that stood on an easel to his left to the writing in his binder. His eyes were a smouldering blue, that were trained on his work. A slightly dark stubble blanketed his sharp jawline and his lips were pursed in thought. My eyes darted to his chestnut hair, which was short and cleanly cut with a small pulled back quiff.

"Are you going to keep staring or is there something you want?" His deep voice penetrated through my thoughts and I swallowed a few times, trying to muster up a few words. Just as I was about to answer, his head perked up and his intense leer met my uneasy one. After taking in my appearance, he raised a questioning eyebrow. "What are you doing in my office?"

I got the feeling that he wasn't expecting me. I hesitated, licking my lips briefly. "Uh...I came to um...bring you some coffee that you requested."

He lightly threw his pen atop the word infested page, leaning back into his chair and folding his arms over his chest as he honed his gaze in on me. "Where's Miss Parrish?"

"She's working...sir."

He gave out a slight scoff, smiling at me. He waved me over, demanding that I come towards the chairs that sat across him and his desk. I nervously obliged, lagging straight over to one of the chairs to sit down. Mr. James was watching my every move, carefully studying me like I was an odd specimen. It made me feel uncomfortable. The only thing that aided me in producing even more sweat and having my nerves rise to their peaks, was the fact that I had his coffee in my hands. One wrong move and I could potentially commit social suicide--or worse, occupational suicide.

Once I nestled myself into the plush armchair, with the cordial cup of coffee in hand, I remembered Tessa's words. She said to pour the contents of the cup into his mug once I go in. I started to search the room for a particular mug until my eye caught one that was standing on the left-side corner of his desk. My hand had merely moved a few centimetres in length forward until it had to halt due to Mr. James' sudden interruption.

"So, I never really quite caught your name," Mr. James was rubbing the side of his jaw, the contact with his stubble making small, irritative noises.