CH 1: A TUMBLE IN THE DARK — REBEKAH

Carl’s Coffee Café was the last place Rebekah wanted to be. She drummed her sweaty palm against her thigh hoping to quell the nervousness that had knotted in her stomach. What could be so difficult in ordering a cup of coffee?

“I wouldn’t want any sweetener or milk” the man in front of her spoke again.

She felt the knot in her stomach tighten. His voice sounded so divine - and blatantly British! A baritone as deep as a lazy growl, yet it was light enough to make her feel this giddy and awkward.

"So, black then?” Carl, with his trademark chubby cheeks replied.

“Not quite” the man with the beautiful voice spoke again, “Could you do something else, anything other than the regular sweeteners and stuff?”

Relax Rebekah!

"Good Lord" she exhaled. The nausea she felt in her stomach could easily be mistaken for butterflies, but she knew better - or so she hoped.

“You really have to decide, Sir.” Carl replied coolly, “Unless you'd have whatever I whip up for you. No rejects, no refunds.”

Rebekah glanced at her watch.

7:14 am.

She panicked. She couldn’t bear her boss giving her another forty-five-minute speech on how punctuality would always be the soul of business at BB and B Corporation should she show up late, again.

“I could try it, if you would guarantee that I would love it.” Mr. I-don’t-know-what-I-want was saying with an exotic English calm that would have thrilled her if the conditions had been different.

If she wasn’t this late, maybe she wouldn’t have cared this much. Maybe she would have preferred to sit at a corner and wait until the fearsome queue thinned out. But right now, she wouldn’t risk sitting here or anywhere else, unless it was a cab headed for her office.

“You’d surprise me then?” she heard him say.

“Oh, I’d surprise you no doubt” she muttered out loud, "Excuse me” she said as she walked over to face Carl by the counter. She expertly avoided looking at the stranger’s face.

“May I have your extra-special cup of coffee, double espresso for the gentleman?” she rapped curtly without batting an eye.

Her heart raced as she spoke, but she balled her fists and put a lid on it. If she could maintain this act a few seconds longer, she might just get away with this stunt.

“And what would the lady want?” Carl asked beaming at her, as if to say thank you.

“Oh, you know my color, Carl” she replied with a smile.

“And here I was thinking chivalry was dead” the stranger said.

She turned, glancing instinctively at the stranger and immediately regretted it. All the confidence she had built up in the past few minutes fizzled away through her eyes. If her naïve biology could do her any further injustice, her lips mouthed 'wow' on their own volition.

Damn!

Her stranger - no, she chided herself for owning him already. THE stranger was smiling at her already. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue she had ever seen in all her years of ogling handsome men and fairytale princes. A loose strand of his perfect black hair dangled between his eyes.

For a few seconds she let herself swim in the sea in his blue eyes while a gentle storm raged in her head.

“Um...” she managed, before dropping her eyes from his face. She totally had no recollection of the words he had said. All that resonated in her head was the sound of his voice causing ripples in her spine.

“Chivalry, milady?” the stranger spoke again, questioning her this time, his smile even wider. She had always found the English accent sexy and his was no exception.

Damn you, Rebekah Palmer!

He had just called her milady and she knew it made her feel like royalty. She silently cursed herself for letting herself get carried away with a stranger’s looks when she was already very late for work.

“One extra special cup of coffee, double espresso for the gentleman” Carl interrupted her thoughts with his announcement, placing two cups of coffee on the counter.

“...and black for the lady”

She should say something in reply, right? Keeping mute would only make her seem naïve. She knew she was already bottling it, but then, saying anything would only make him say something to her again. She wanted that, didn’t she? Come on, Rebekah, say something. It was now or never. She chose the latter.

“Thanks Carl” she said as she grabbed her cup of coffee and turned towards the door at once.

“Slow down, milady” the stranger caught her upper arm, stopping her and moving out of the queue in one sleek move. His hands were soft and firm at the same time where he held her. Hot sparks travelled from her hands down her very spine, crippling her legs and her urgency to get away.

“The least I could do is to say thank you, right?”

Rebekah swallowed. The gold and brown walls of the café were spinning now, as were the heads of everyone else in the café towards their direction.

“You just did. May I go now?” she said.

Six words!

She had just managed six whole words to Prince Charming and she didn’t turn to butter, literally. Luckily, biology hadn't shut off her ability to sound sassy; at least she hoped she did.

He laughed at her bad joke releasing her arm at the same time. Her toes now twitched uncomfortably in her shoes. Her knees were knocking against themselves and she prayed he didn’t notice.

“Are you okay, milady?” he asked.

Damn. Damn. He had noticed already.

“I’m fine” she replied, immediately realizing that she had been biting her lower lip all along. Why does she always get this nervous around guys, err men? She knew her cheek would be crimson already.

“I’m fine. If you don’t mind, I would like to be on my way now”

“Okay milady.” He said, and he should have ended there. But no, he had to ask, “Still available?”

All the alarm bells went off in her head and the choir in her head starting humming a love song. She was surprised at his bluntness in asking if she was still available. Did she look that old or married? She swallowed. Maybe she shouldn’t sound so naïve, she thought. She would do exactly as she had seen in the movies; give him the date he obviously was asking for as an excuse to leave the café.

“It depends on the time you’re thinking of. Dinner or lunch would be nice.”

Christ! She really was being presumptuous, wasn’t she? What was she saying? She could barely look at his face and here she was, offering herself to him on a platter of, well coffee brown.

“Oh dear, I'm uh... actually talking about that". He pointed at the BB and B Corporation Black Friday flyer sticking out from her bag.

Good Lord!

She flushed even redder now.

“I… I was… I know. I thought...”

No lie was forthcoming. Her eyes danced in their sockets as she desperately sought for a reasonable excuse at least. Her eyes briefly rested on the inscription on his coffee cup, 'Why worry, when you have Coffee?".

Perfect. Just perfect!

"My bad, I never meant to upset you. Did I say something wrong?" he was still talking. She was still standing.

Rebekah took a deep breath and sipped her coffee, and then she did the craziest thing she had done in the past ten minutes. She spun around and ran out of the café.

------------------------

She had gotten to the office at seven thirty-eight, two minutes before her boss arrived. When he eventually showed up, he sent for her, handing her a little envelope containing a flash drive. She had nodded in unspoken agreement to have the job ready on his desk before the close of work for the day.

"Um, Sir" she said before taking another step.

"Yes, ma Cherie, is anything the manner?"

She smiled. Jean Pierre sounded really concerned. She felt like he was really filling up the father and mentor void that had been vacant in her life ever since her father’s passing.

"I uh…"

"Man trouble?" He said with a naughty glint in his eye.

"No! I don't care for men, Sir"

"Rebekah" he had stood up and walked over to where she stood. "Do I scare you?"

"No" she replied, looking down. She really needed to get new shoes.

"Then talk to me. Your father was more like a son to me. You could even call me Grandpa" he said with a light-hearted laugh.

"What's the matter, ma Cherie?"

He always called her ma Cherie, a fond French pet name she loved so much.

"It’s just that I've been mentally exhausted lately and I'd really need to rest for a while if I'm to be at my absolute best"

"A leave, love? Are you asking for a leave?"

"Not exactly" she nearly smiled for sounding like the stranger from this morning's coffee episode. "More like, less work for a little while"

She flailed her arms in the air, “I don’t really mean that I am being over worked or that I don’t like my job, Sir. It’s just that…”

"Oh, Yes!" Jean Pierre beamed and walked back to his table. "I did think of that. Matter of fact, I already handled that."

Oh!

"You think I wouldn't notice if my princess was stressed out?" he smiled.

Jean Pierre Blanc was more than a boss to her. After her father's passing, he had taken up sole responsibility for her since her father was an only child since she never knew mummy.

"Just go ahead with your work, ma Cherie. I'd send for you when help arrives. For now, bury yourself in work!"

She had taken his advice literally. So here she was, her head buried in piles of files that needed sorting. Today was slowly becoming a bad day.

Her telephone buzzed. Her hand shot out immediately to pick up the call, instead her hands struck against a framed picture on the table sending it crashing to the floor.

Rebekah jumped up in fright, and then stooped to pick shattered pieces of the picture from the ground.

"No. no. no. no." she muttered repeatedly, tears gushing from her eyes.

It was the last picture she had ever taken with her father before his death two years ago. The most recent of all his pictures she possessed. It had been his favorite - and hers too.

The telephone on her desk rang noisily.

She picked up the call, wiping her tears quickly.

It was Jean Pierre on the other end.

"Come over to my office please." He said. "And get a cup of coffee on your way here"

Still grieving her loss, she wiped her eyes and did as her boss had asked. She didn't bother wiping her tears so much; Jean Pierre would still notice she had cried.

Coffee in hand, she knocked curtly on the door and opened, fixing her eyes on Jean Pierre as she entered. There was someone else in the office but she didn’t bother looking. She had had enough problems looking at faces today already.

"Ah, welcome, ma Cherie." Jean Pierre's voice ushered her in. "I promised to reduce your workload, right? Voila!"

She turned to see the other person in the room. Dressed in a fitting white shirt and a matching blue suit, was the last person she expected to see again!