Chapter 6

“Miss Dela Cruz.”

Shaina stopped what she was doing and quickly looked up. She was editing a document to pass to her boss when he suddenly called her. Even if he was not looking at her, she could feel the weight of his voice. It was like with just one call, she should stand up right away and run to report or do what he asked.

Lukas, like always, was sitting in his swivel chair, leaning back, but his eyes showed he was very sleepy. His fingers were fast typing on the laptop keyboard, but his eyes were half-closed.

She glanced at her watch and saw it was already three in the afternoon. Of course, anyone would feel sleepy at that hour. But instead of giving in, Lukas Vergara had his own solution.

“Yes, sir?” she asked, pretending to be innocent, even if deep inside she just wanted to look busy. Who knows what task he might throw at her again? If she was not tied to this job, she would have already said, “Make your own coffee, boss.”

“Coffee,” he said, cold and straight.

She knew it. Coffee.

“You make it yourself. Strong. Two teaspoons of sugar, half cream, and no milk. Don’t make it too sweet. I need to stay awake,” he added, showing again how bossy he could be.

See? He could have just said: “Strong coffee, not too sweet.” But no—details had to be there. That’s rich people for you.

“Yes, sir,” she answered, forcing herself to sound fine, then stood up. Of course she couldn’t complain.

Why am I nervous? she asked herself. It’s just coffee, not a chemistry exam.

She walked straight to the small pantry, carrying with her a mix of annoyance and nerves. When she reached the counter where the coffee, sugar, and creamer were placed, she froze.

What did he say again? Two spoons of sugar? One and a half creamer? Half milk? Or no milk? God, why does his order sound like algebra?

She pressed her fingers on her temple, trying to remember every word. But all she could picture in her mind was his serious face earlier—forehead lined, like one mistake and she’d be fired right away.

Whatever, she whispered. If I mix it wrong, then fire me.

Instead of following his exact words, she followed her instinct. She made her usual mix: strong coffee, just the right sugar, and powdered milk.

If he doesn’t like it, that’s his problem. I’ve been drinking this for years and I’m still alive.

Back in the office, Lukas was still busy with his laptop. Carefully, she placed the cup on his table.

“Your coffee, sir.”

He looked up, took the cup, and sipped without a word.

And that was the start of her torture.

Lukas slowly put down the cup. Then, he looked at her—eyebrow raised, face blank. Like a judge in a talent show, ready to give a score.

“Miss Dela Cruz.” His voice was cold, scary. “This is not what I asked you to make.”

She almost fell from where she stood, but she wasn’t about to lose. “Sir, it’s still coffee. It’s hot, has caffeine, and no poison. At least you’re awake now, even if it’s from being annoyed.”

She nearly choked on her own words, but she stood by it. She couldn’t admit she forgot his measurements.

Lukas stayed quiet, face serious, like he was about to rain down a termination letter. “So, you don’t follow instructions.”

“Depends on the instruction, sir.” She crossed her arms, even if her voice shook a little. “If it’s too much, I don’t follow. If you’re too bossy, sometimes I fight back. But look—you’re alive, right? So far, my coffee works.”

And then, something she never expected happened.

The cold mask on Lukas’s face cracked. At the corner of his lips, a small smile appeared. Not big, not fake—just a real, surprising smile.

“Sometimes,” he said softly, “not following instructions has its benefits.” He paused, then looked straight at her. “I love your coffee.”

When Shaina lay on her bed, she quickly covered her face with a pillow. “Stupid man!” she whispered, hugging the pillow so tight it almost tore. “Stupid Lukas Vergara.”

She knew it was normal for a secretary to make coffee. Fine, given. But what she couldn’t accept—why was she nervous, why was she blushing—was all because of one line: “I love your coffee.”

She sat up fast, frowning, angry at herself. “Hey, Shaina Dela Cruz! Why are you blushing?! Did you forget your first day? You got splashed with mud, then he scolded you like you had no manners! And now, just because he said ‘I love your coffee,’ you’re already melting?”

She threw the pillow to the floor and rubbed her temples. “No. Not allowed. You can’t fall for the smile and words of an arrogant man. Yes, he’s handsome. Yes, he smells good. Yes, he has presence. But girl, don’t forget—he’s also the reason you almost missed your interview and got embarrassed.”

She lay down again, staring at the ceiling. “You will not blush, Shaina. No. No. No.”

But no matter how much she denied, she still heard his voice in her head—deep, calm, heavy. “I love your coffee.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Argh! Stupid boss! You’re so annoying but why do I want to see you again tomorrow?!”

This was the longest day for Shaina. She felt so drained, like her brain had been used up. When she finally reached her room, she quickly removed her shoes and dropped her bag on the table. She didn’t even have the energy to shower.

Again, she lay down and covered her face with the pillow. “Stupid man!” she muttered. “Stupid Lukas Vergara.”

She still couldn’t get him out of her head. From the moment she typed that he smelled good, to when he said she was different from his past secretaries, and until he said those words: “I love your coffee.”

Too many things happened today. Too many things she wanted to forget.

She knew making coffee was part of her job. Fine. But what she couldn’t accept was why she felt nervous and why her heart was racing. Did he really have to say “I love your coffee”?

Did she really have to blush over that line? Why did her happiness feel so shallow?

Why are you blushing? her brain scolded her. Did you forget he almost ran you over in the mud and didn’t even say sorry?

All because he said that line!

But then again—why is he so handsome? Maybe it was a different man who drove that car.

She shook her head fast. She was losing it.

She sat up, frowned, and faced the mirror.

“Hey, Shaina Dela Cruz! Why are you smiling like that?! Did you forget how the ground almost swallowed you on your first day? You were splashed with mud, he insulted you like you were rude! And now, just because he said ‘I love your coffee,’ you’re falling?”

She threw the pillow down and rubbed her head. “No. Not allowed. You can’t fall for the smile and words of a man full of pride. Yes, he’s handsome. Yes, he smells good. Yes, he’s charming. But girl, don’t forget—he’s also the reason you almost missed your interview and felt ashamed.”

She lay back again, looking at the ceiling. “You will not blush, Shaina. No. No. No.”

But even if she denied it, she still heard his deep, calm voice in her head. “I love your coffee.”

She shut her eyes tight. “Argh! Stupid boss! You’re so mean but why do I want to repeat this again tomorrow?!”