Wrong Order… Wrong Man

Santiago walked out of the building with his jacket hanging on his arm. He wore a pair of dark shades to shield his eyes from the blaring afternoon sun.

He stopped walking and stood looking left and right. He huffed out in annoyance and crossed the road.

He kept walking as he replayed everything that happened in his brother’s office. He gritted his teeth and stopped in front of a row of businesses. He took off the shades and grunted in annoyance.

He sighed and entered the first shop in sight, unaware it’s a café.

Santiago stopped and looked around the small, cozy café, hosting a few customers. A sudden wash of calmness runs through him as he progresses to the counter.

A beautiful young woman, mindlessly stirring a cup of coffee, stood behind the counter.

Santiago made his presence known by tapping the counter. Surprisingly, she didn’t flinch or acknowledge his presence, and it irritated him.

He wasn’t about to get ignored or sidelined by a stranger like his father does to him all the time.

“Daydreaming at work isn’t the best work ethic, you know?” He lightly slapped the table, jerking her out of her reverie.

Joan frowned and blinked rapidly, realizing he might be a customer.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away for a bit.” She cleared her throat. “What would you like to order, sir?”

Santiago made a face and sighed.

“A latte and two cheesecakes would do,” he said, and she nodded, then turned around to start preparing his order.

Joan brewed more coffee and entered the kitchen to bring more cheesecakes and doughnuts.

Her mind wandered to the text she got from Darken earlier. She made a move to report to the police but refrained from it because she was uncertain about the authenticity of the message.

If she knew that attention-seeking man-baby well enough, she would know he can make up anything just to get her and her family worked up or just to get her to talk to him.

But if it was really true, she wondered how he was able to get ahold of those pictures because they were taken inside her father’s company about two years ago, according to the dates stated.

“He’s definitely lying about it,” she said to herself.

“Can you be quick about my order? I don’t think preparing them should be a hard task.” Santiago’s voice ripped through her thoughts, and she emerged from the kitchen holding a tray full of doughnuts.

“Sorry about that.” She tried to laugh it off but didn’t miss the words he muttered under his breath about the cons of patronizing small, incompetent businesses with no focus on customer satisfaction.

It irritated her, but she couldn’t blame him and just brushed it off.

“I apologize once more,” she said and placed the order in front of him.

Santiago looked at her dryly and down at what she laid in front of him. He huffed out in disbelief.

“I asked for a latte and two cheesecakes, not black coffee and three doughnuts,” he deadpanned.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” Joan’s cheek flushed when she realized her mistake.

He scoffed. “If you want to be sorry, at least know what you’re doing.” He almost flinched at how harsh he sounded. “This is another of your many ‘sorries,’ and it doesn’t look good on you or the services you claim to offer,” he gritted out.

Joan stopped packing the wrong order and stared at him with furrowed brows.

“I apologized already; you don’t need to be mean about it,” she said, trying to bite down the annoyance that was slowly creeping in.

“Yeah, whatever. Just get my order already,” he hissed.

Joan curled her fist in a ball as she glared at Santiago, who didn’t pay her any attention while he scrolled through his phone.

She was irritated by his choice of words, and it just wasn’t the insult—it was the way he said it. Cold. Disconnected. Like she didn’t exist, and it annoyed her.

She carried the coffee and doughnuts and replaced it with his initial order. She slammed his order on the counter and said with gritted teeth.

“Here’s your order, sir, I hope you enjoy it.”

Santiago didn’t spare her a glance and started eating the cheesecake.

Joan stared at him for a moment and directed her focus to her phone. She scrolled to Camila’s earlier message of a workplace meme she sent because she was having a bad day at the design studio.

She took in deep breaths and let them out slowly. She kept doing it till she felt relaxed and calm. She looked up at Santiago, who was already watching her as he drank from his cup.

“Do you often get angry?” he inquired, a little questioning frown on his brows. “Because if you do, that’s definitely an anger management problem that should be taken care of,” he concludes.

Joan scoffed. “Seriously?” she asked with an eyebrow raised. “Are you always this foul-mouthed, or don’t you understand what ‘boundaries’ means?”

“Excuse me?”

“Excuse you? You waltz in here, like a man who owns everything—”

“I actually own a lot,” he chipped in.

“—talking like you own the place, giving side comments no one asked for, and still having the guts to speak to me like I am below you,” she said angrily. Her eyes blazed with a fierce anger she never knew she had.

“I—”

“I don’t need to hear whatever ill words that are going to roll out of your mouth. The least you could be is kind with your words and not place judgements or offensive remarks because that made you feel more of a man than you’ve ever been.”

His eyes widened slightly at what she said, and he frowned when he realized how much of his dad he was being.

Santiago cleared his throat and brought out some bills. He placed it on the counter and stood up.

“Just improve on satisfying your customers more than complaining,” he said and walked out of the café.

Joan glared at his retreating back and bit her lower lip to prevent herself from yelling what she truly wanted to say to him.

She looked down at the bills on the counter and gasped at how much he put down for the coffee and cheesecake. It was a generous amount, and she appreciated it because it would add to the money they wanted to use for restocking ingredients.

But then, she didn’t want a favor from him, so she paid the original price of the order in the cash register and kept the rest in the change box with a little note wrapped around it.