Coincidence

The alarm buzzed insistently, dragging her from the remnants of a restless sleep. Camilla groaned, tossing the blanket aside, only to narrowly avoid stepping on a stray shoe that had somehow ended up in the middle of the floor.

Her apartment, a modest two-room affair on the edge of the city, was cluttered but lived-in, each item hinting at her busy, slightly chaotic life.

She shuffled to the small kitchenette, fumbling with the ancient coffee maker that groaned in protest before sputtering to life.

While waiting, she checked her phone, three missed calls from her father, and two reminders about the discussion the day before.

Dressed in a crisp blouse and Camilla weaved through the crowd, eyes focused on her destination.

Her phone buzzed in her hand bag that hung on her right arm, while rummaging through her bag, she spotted a taxi crawling along the curb and waved frantically, finally getting a hold of the phone.

“Ai, Papi! I have literally scanned through your messages, I need a breather.” She said waiting for the taxi to halt.

“Mi Amore, I don’t understand how doing this for your father and the betterment of our family is seemingly hard for you to do.” Came a deep but loving voice from the other end of the line.

He continued, “As your father, I gave you everything you asked from me, your freedom living in the dump, all in a bid to see what life is outside family and dependency. I agreed to these entire; selfish request my daughter, now I ask from you, a little favor and you slap it right to my face.” Her father retorted.

At this time, the taxi driver already stopped in front of her and she signaled the driver to give her a few seconds.

“Papi, what you’re asking of me is too much! More than I can give to repay all the favors you’ve done for me, this? This is my life we’re talking about, Papi.” She responded, seemingly adamant over the phone. She opened the door to the taxi and just as she was about to settle in, another figure moved ahead of her.

“Sorry, I got this one,” a deep commanding voice said, clipped and confident.

Camilla looked up, the man in front of her was impeccably dressed, exuding authority, with a presence that seemed to command the entire street. Something about him sparked irritation, and instinctively, she bristled.

“I called it first,” she snapped, her tone sharp but polite enough to make him notice.

He didn’t reply immediately, only tilted his head, eyes assessing her with cool, unnerving intensity. Camilla narrowed her eyes, tightening her grip on the taxi door handle as if sheer will would stop him from sliding into the seat.

“Papi, I’ll talk to you later bye!!” Camilla snapped into the phone before cutting the call, her attention now fully on the stranger.

“Excuse me, Mr. I said I called it first.” She repeated her voice firmer this time.

“I heard you,” he replied coolly, one hand already resting on the taxi door as though it belonged to him. “But I’m afraid I’m not giving it up.”

Camilla scoffed. “What are you, the city taxi police? People wait their turn like civilized adults, that’s how this works.”

“People,” he said, his lips twitching in the faintest hint of amusement, “don’t usually stand in the middle of the street arguing about it. They move on.”

Her mouth fell open, was this man seriously lecturing her on civility while stealing her cab?

“Move on? Do you even realize I have an important appointment to catch? Some of us don’t have the luxury of…” she stopped herself, realizing what she was about to say.

The stranger arched an eyebrow, clearly entertained by her outburst.

“Then perhaps you should have woken earlier.”

Her jaw dropped, indignation flaring. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re blocking my door.” His voice remained calm, smooth, and laced with arrogance.

Camilla exhaled sharply, planting herself more firmly in front of the taxi. “Oh, am I? How tragic for you,” she fired back, her chin tilted high.

The stranger’s gaze sharpened, his patience clearly thinning. “Step aside. You’re blocking my door.”

Before she could retort, the taxi driver, already irritated by the escalating standoff, slammed a hand on the steering wheel.

“Look, are you two taking the ride or not? I don’t have all day!”

Neither moved, Camilla crossed her arms; the stranger adjusted his cufflinks with practiced calm. Seconds stretched, the driver muttered something in a language neither of them caught, and then with an exasperated shake of his head, he shifted gears.

“Wait...” the stranger’s commanding voice cut the air, but too late.

The taxi lurched forwards, wheels splashing through a shallow puddle at the curb. Dirty water sprayed upward, catching the corner of his immaculate trousers and the edge of his suit jacket.

For the first time that morning, his composure cracked. He looked down at the spattered fabric, jaw tightening, and the faintest flicker of disbelief flashing across his unusually unreadable face.

Camilla blinked and then laughter bubbled up from her chest. She tried to smother it behind her hand, but the sight of this impossibly polished man glaring at a water stain as though it were a personal betrayal was too much.

She burst into full, unrestrained laughter, doubling slightly at the waist.

“Oh my God… your face!” she wheezed, pointing helplessly at him. “All that drama for a taxi and now look at you!”

The stranger’s eyes, cool and unnerving only moments ago; now burned with icy fury.

He straightened, shoulders stiff, every inch of him radiating the promise that he would not a man used to being laughed at.

Her laughter only grew louder.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, brushing at the stain as if sheer force could erase it. Then his gaze locked on her again, dark and sharp.

“You think this is funny?”

“It’s hilarious,” she shot back without hesitation, still wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Arrogant jerk gets a puddle baptism..this just made my day.”

He said nothing, but the muscle ticking in his jaw was answer enough. With one last glare, he turned on his heel and strode away.

Camilla, still laughing, called after him, “Hey, next time, maybe try asking nicely!”

He didn’t respond. “Shit, I’m definitely going to lose my job today.” He muttered, wiping tears off her eyes.