A Way Out

Chapter 1

Black. No milk, no sugar, no nothing. My boss, Cassie, warned me about him the first week I started. Cold and scary were the first words that she used to describe him. The only word that left his lips when he visited the coffee shop was 'black'. Nothing fancy. Just plain, black coffee.

Cassie didn't need to tell me who he was. Our regular guest, Donovan Dane, owned one of the largest publishing houses in the country. He recently took over from his father, and that same publishing house was a place I dreamed of. I was so ambitious about becoming a writer; I was even saving up money to study creative writing. Yet, I didn't feel bold enough to go up to him and shove my work in his face, forcing him to read it. Instead, I dreamily stared out of the window during my free time and wrote the stories that occupied my mind down on paper.

Donovan Dane sat by the window, his eyes fixated on the world behind the glass as he carefully sipped his coffee. His blue eyes were the thing about him that got me every single time. They weren't the bright blue eyes I've seen so many times before, but instead, they held an icy blue color, making them almost transparent. His eyes were all-consuming, trapping me in a pleasantly cold trance.

Donovan Dane looked up with every sound and registered every movement. His strong jaw clenched when a girl accidentally bumped against his table, breaking his study of the world. She muttered an apology, but he was unresponsive, sending the girl away with his silence. The hand that previously held the newspaper on his table now ran through his slicked-back wavy hair, messing it up a bit. By the looks of it, he tried to tame his dark hair with some gel, and I guessed that naturally, his hair would be curlier.

"Are you done swooning?" Cassie asked as she nudged me with her elbow.

I rolled my eyes and huffed. "I wasn't swooning."

Cassie laughed, her brown eyes sparkling. "Please, Everly. Everyone swoons over him, whether they like it or not." She handed me a tray with dirty dishes. "Take this to the back and keep dreaming there where customers won't see you drool."

"I wasn-!" I tried to make clear, but Cassie lightly pushed me into the kitchen, cutting off my sentence and leaving me frustrated.

Honestly, I wasn't swooning. I just wondered. Every single time he made an appearance in the coffee shop, I wondered what his life was like. Successful dreams realized and probably a house the size of a football field. Secretly I envied him, but I also despised him for it. The only thing he needed to do for his success was take over his father's business. Me, I had to work my ass off to get where I wanted to be. The only thing I ever wanted was for people to read my stories, and that seemed so farfetched.

With a sigh, I dropped a cup in the soapy water, splashing it all over myself in the process. Donovan Dane was a story himself. No one was born such a bitter person. Life had to cause it. What had made him so far out of reach?

I hung up my apron by the door and took my favorite seat in the corner of the coffee shop. It gave me an excellent view of the people who spend their time here during the day.

I bit on the edge of my pen as I looked around. What was interesting? What grabbed my attention and made the thoughts in my head form a story? Was it the old man hiding behind his newspaper as he enjoyed a piece of lemon cake? Or maybe the blond girl with the red headphones on, furiously typing away on her laptop as she swayed her head to the music that blasted through her headphones. So many people, all with a different story.

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon when he entered the coffee shop. He hoped, but he didn't dare to get disappointed. Yet he took the risk as he glanced around the coffee shop. Every Saturday he hoped to catch her grey eyes with his brown ones. He knew she came here every Saturday so her not being here was wrong to him.