ANMELDEN“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 sa
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
“You look,” Oliver starts, then stops, shaking his head. “You look dangerous. In a very good way.” He grabs his car keys from the dresser and steps toward her, his gaze sweeping over her entire outfit with slow, appreciative eyes. The possessiveness her feels in private does not disappear just because they are getting ready for work; it just tightens into something more subtle, a quiet pride in the woman standing before him. “That outfit is going to make is very difficult for me to focus on anything other than you during the meeting,” he says, hie voice dropping low. He reaches out and adjusts the collar of her blouse with a lingering touch, his fingers brushing against the warm skin of her neck. “You always say that. But somehow you always manage.” Harper said with an amused smirk and stepped closer to him. “It is a skill,” Oliver admits, his icy blue eyes locked on hers as she closes the gap between them. “A very di
Oliver pauses, looking at Harper behind him as she placed the mouthwash back on the vanity. “And Harper?” his tone softens, losing that edge of morning efficiency. “I am really looking forward to tonight.” There was a moment of silence then he stepped out of the bathroom and grabbed his watch from the nightstand, sliding it onto his wrist and checking the time. 8:15 AM. Harper followed him out of the bathroom; a towel still wrapped around her. “Me too,” she said heading for the bedroom door. “And then we will have the while weekend…” she added before slipping out of the room and going down the hall to the guest room where her clothes are currently in a sports bag. The mention of the whole weekend makes Oliver’s lips curve into a satisfied smile. He grabs a navy-blue suit jacket from his wardrobe. He lifted it by the shoulders and slipped his arms into the sleeves, rolling his shoulders slightly to settle the jacket into pl
Harper followed Oliver out of the shower. “You know I have spent so much time here; I think I might need to get a toothbrush. And a drawer or two,” she said with a hint of amusement lacing her tone. The suggestion hits Oliver with the force of a freight train, but he keeps his expression carefully neutral. He is already drying his black hair with a towel, but his hands pause for a fraction of a second. A toothbrush. A drawer. That is not just a visit, that is moving in. he looks at her, really looks at her– damp, glowing, and looking entirely too comfortable in his space. The thought of her things scattered throughout his perfectly organized apartment, of her toothbrush sitting next to his in the bathroom, sends a surge of possessive warmth through him that he can’t quite suppress. “A toothbrush and a drawer,” he repeats slowly, a small, dangerous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That sounds like a very significant commitment, Harp
“Perhaps, in this case resistance is futile? Perhaps, the opposite is the solution.” Harper suggested trying to maintain a professional face. She felt her cheeks flush and her heartbeat quicken. “How about a drink after work?” she added quickly, before she can change her m
“Housekeeping might throw it all away.” Harper said softly, looking down at the papers on the floor. “Organizing your office and paperwork is my job,” she adds. Oliver’s expression softened slightly at her insistence; a hint of admiration mixed with the frustration i
“That is it,” Oliver encouraged against her breast, his voice muffled by the flesh pressed against his lips. “Show me how much you want this.” His free hand moved to cup her other breast, kneading gently while his mouth worked relentlessly on the first. The contrast betwee
Oliver’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at her admission, a low growl of approval rumbling in his chest. The confession that her nervousness was due to attraction, not fear, sent a wave of possessive heat through him. “Attractive?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You think







