LOGINA small, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of Oliver’s mouth as she suggested a cafe mocha for tomorrow. The idea of another deviation from his usual black coffee routine seemed to amuse him in a way he rarely allowed himself. “Cafe mocha, huh?” he repeated, his voice losing some of its earlier gruffness. “You are quire the connoisseur of caffeine derivatives, aren’t you?” He watched her over the rim of his glasses as she studies her own latte, noting the way her fingers traced the condensation on the cup. The nervousness in her posture was endearing in a way he couldn’t quite place. “You know,” he began leaning forward slightly and resting his chin on his hand. “For someone who works for me, you are awfully bold. Most people would not dare suggest changes to my daily routine.” Harper clears her throat softly, straightens her posture and says in a professional tone, “Well… a well-structured daily routine improves performance. If there is nothing else, I must see to those documents.”
Oliver’s lips quirked into a genuine smile, the rare sight softening the stern lines of his face. The professional tone she adopted only made her suggestion seem more endearing. “Improve performance,” he echoed, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. “Is that what we are calling it now? My secretary acting as my personal nutritionist and lifestyle coach?” He took another slow sip of his latte, savoring the taste while studying her determined expression. The way she straightened her posture and cleared her throat reminded him of a student presenting a project- except this student happened to be incredibly attractive and standing in his office. “Very well, that cafe mocha experiment begins tomorrow. And yes, go ahead and handle those documents,” he said finally, setting the cup down with a decisive click.
Anna nodded lightly and slipped out of Oliver’s office. A few minutes later she returned with the printed documents. Oliver watched as she re-entered his office, his gaze following her movement as she approached the desk. She places the document on his desk and asks, “Would you like the documents bound or stapled sir?” The way the light caught in her hair and highlighted her features made something tighten in his chest. “Bound,” he said abruptly, though his eyes remained fixed on her rather than the documents. “Three-hole punch and spiral binding should do fine.” He pushed his chair back slightly, creating space between himself and the desk. His hands rested on his thighs, fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against the fabric of his trousers. “While you are doing that,” he continued, his tone shifting to something more casual than usual. “Tell me something about yourself. What do you do outside of work?” The question hung in the air between them, a clear invitation for conversation beyond their professional dynamic. His icy blue eyes held hers expectantly, waiting for her response while trying to appear nonchalant about the sudden interest in her personal life.
“Oh, uh,” Harper stuttered, looking at Oliver with a surprised expression for a moment before bussing herself by collecting the necessary equipment needed to bind the document. Oliver’s expression softened as he watched her gather the binding supplies, his gaze lingering on her hands as they moved with practiced efficiency. “Not much, I go to the gym for about an hour a day and I read.” Harper admitted softly and the admission of her simple hobbies seemed to catch Oliver off guard- he had expected something more glamorous or exciting from someone so poised and young. Harper’s eyes flickered up to look at Oliver. “I am not particularly interesting,” she admitted. “Not interesting?” he repeated, a hint of genuine surprise in his voice. “That is... Refreshing.” He leaned back in his chair, studying her with newfound curiosity. “Most people in this company feel the need to impress me with their busy schedules and accomplishment. You are different.” his fingers tapped against the armrest thoughtfully. “Gym and reading- simple pleasures. I can appreciate that.”
A Small smile played at his lips. “What do you read? Business strategies? Classic literature?” He picked up his latte again, taking a slow sip while waiting for her response. The office felt different now- less formal, more like two people sharing a moment rather than boss and employee. “I am currently reading the newest edition of the fashion industry and its careers.” Harper said casually while she added the spiral binding to the document. Oliver’s eyebrows raised slightly at her response, a flicker of genuine interest replacing his usual stoic expression. The fashion industry- a world he knew intimately but rarely discussed outside of board meetings. “The newest edition,” he repeated, setting his latte aside with more purpose. “Which publisher? And what specifically caught your interest? Career paths or industry trends?” His ice-blue eyes followed her movements as she expertly fed the documents through the binding machine. There was something captivating about watching her perform even mundane tasks with such competence. “The fourth edition by Micheal Granger. I find the entire thing fascinating; I could not pick out a specific part that caught my interest if I tried.” Harper said shyly, a soft blush creeping up her cheek.
Oliver’s expression shifted, a genuine spark of curiosity lighting up his icy blue eyes. Micheal Granger’s work was renowned in the industry, and the fact that she was reading one of his latest books with such enthusiasm, piqued his interest. “The fourth edition,” he repeated, his voice carrying a note of respect. “Granger does not pull any punches. What part has you blushing like that?” He leaned forward slightly resting his elbows on the desk. The movement caused his sleeves to tighten across his muscular forearms. His gaze remained fixed on her face, studying the way the blush crept up her cheeks. “Oh, uh,” she stuttered, looking up at him nervously and placing a hand on her cheek. “Don’t be shy, I am genuinely curious. What aspect of career development in the fashion industry could possibly make someone as poised as you look flustered?” Harper took a deep breath and said, “I don’t get much chance to discuss the books I am interested in. Most people don’t make work a hobby. They prefer clubbing...”
Without fully straightening, she shifted her weight and turned toward the Marius. She raised the second plate slightly to keep it level, then brought it across the table. His bacon and cheese omelette was folded into a thick golden crescent, its surface lightly browned from the pan. Crisp pieces of bacon were visible along the edges, while melted cheese softened the centre, with a little golden cheese stretching where the omelette had been folded. Beside it sat a small portion of breakfast potatoes and a few slices of tomato, adding contrasting colours to the plate. The waitress lowered the omelette onto the table with both hands, setting it down gently before releasing the plate. She glanced between the two dishes to make sure everything was positioned properly, then straightened and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. After giving the customers, a brief, friendly smile, she stepped backward from the table, allowing them room to begin eating.The warm dishes remain
“Using the secretary as a buffer,” Oliver says, shaking his head with quiet amusement. “That is incredibly efficient. And bringing Knox along as a distraction? That is just tactical warfare, Harper.” He takes another bite of his burrito, thoroughly enjoying the way her mind works. A little sauce appeared on his fingers; he wiped them against the napkin before picking the burrito up again. “I think you are right. We present a united front. It she tries to isolate you, Knox is there. If she tries to isolate me, we have a paper trail and a third party in the room. she can’t manipulate what she can’t get behind closed doors.” He leaned back, looking satisfied with the strategy. “You have got a good head on your shoulders. Maybe too good for this office.”Harper smiles a shy proud smile. “You are too charming,” she said softly and took the last sip of her coffee. “There is one gap left…” her
The waitress then turned toward Harper, carefully holding the second plate. It held a generous serving of bacon and eggs with toast and fries. Two sunny-side-up eggs rested near the centre; their whites cooked until firm around the edges while their golden yolks remained glossy and soft. Several strips of bacon lay beside them, crisp along the edges but still slightly tender through the middle. Two slices of golden-brown toast were arranged along the side, their surfaces toasted evenly with a little butter melting into the warm bread. A pile of crisp golden fries filled the remaining space on the plate, some overlapping one another. The waitress gently lowered the plate onto the tabletop. She adjusted it slightly, so the eggs remained upright and the toast sat neatly beside the fries. After checking that nothing had shifted during the walk from the kitchen, she gave Oliver and Harper a brief smile and stepped back, leaving the warm, freshly prepared breakfasts steaming gently in fro
The waitress tucked her hands behind her apron for a moment and glanced between them. “Have you had a chance to decide what you would like to eat?” she asked. The man looked down at his menu before closing it. “I will have the breakfast burrito, please.” The waitress nodded and wrote the order down on her notepad. “And for you?” she asked, turning toward Harper, who considered the menu for another moment before answering. “I will have the bacon and eggs, with toast and fries on the side, please.” “Certainly,” the waitress replied, adding the order to her notes. “One breakfast burrito, and bacon and eggs with toast and fries.” She briefly checked that she had everything written down correctly before giving them another smile. “I will put that through to the kitchen for you.” With that, she slipped the notepad back into her apron and headed toward the counter, leaving them with their freshly poured cof
The waitress is dressed in a practical café uniform consisting of a black short sleeve polo shirt with a small, subtle logo on the chest; a black apron tied around her waist that extends down to around her knees and has a large front pocket; black fitted trousers underneath the apron; and black work shoes. In her left hand she is holding a small glass coffee server containing dark coffee and had a dark handle, with a narrow spout at the front. She appears to be carrying it carefully by the handle. In her right hand, she carries a white ceramic coffee cup, held steadily near waist height. She placed the glass coffee server and ceramic coffee cup on an empty table. “Good evening. Welcome to The Daily Grind,” the waitress said, holding the door open for them. “Is it just the two of you tonight?” When they confirmed that it was, she gestured toward the cozy interior. “Wonderful. Follow me, and I will get you settled.”She led them
“Nervous.” He repeats, his tone sceptical. “Marius does not get nervous. He gets annoyed, he gets demanding, he gets loud. But nervous implies he is afraid of something.” He pulls the car into the lane for The Daily Grind, his mind racing through possibilities. Marius would not be nervous about a former employee unless there was something more to the story– something involving the Clear Care Clark campaign, or something Seraphine had left behind. “Did he say anything else?” he asks, his voice dropping into the focused, analytical mode he uses when a problem needs solving. “Anything about why he was acting that way around you?”“Nope,” Harper shook her head lightly. “But he does not exactly confide in me.” Oliver pulls into the café’s parking spot, the engine cutting off with a final, quiet hum. Four cars are parked in front of The Daily Grind. On the far left is a black SUV. Next to it
Oliver’s eyes widened slightly at her blunt observation, a low chuckle escaping his lips. The sound was rich and unexpected, breaking the usual seriousness, he carried around the office. “In a hurry,” he repeated, his voice laced with amusement. “You are saying my designers need to consider emergen
Oliver’s expression softened further, a rare warmth entering his icy blue eyes. He watched the way her hand instinctively went to her cheek, the nervous gesture only making her more endearing. “Clubbing,” he repeated with a dismissive wave of his hand. “That is what people in their twenties do. The
Over time Oliver notices Harper’s presence more and more. He notices how she handles her tasks with efficiency and grace. He notices her attention to detail and how skilled she was at organizing. As time went on, his interest in her became less professional, he began to wonder about her dreams and
Harper Miller had always been a little too nerdy, despite her attractive appearance. She had always preferred order to chaos. Books over parties. And work over vacations. Her parents were constantly pushing her to go out and socialize more; her peers were always inviting her out to movie nights and







