2: You made the mess

Silence filled the entire café as Santiago’s eyes burned holes in mine. And then chaos erupted simultaneously. Ana gasped and clung to Dom’s arm for support. Dom’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of coffee on Santiago’s jacket which made him unaware of that his hands were directly under the tab on the espresso machine because of Ana’s slightly pull.

“¡Dios mío!” Javier murmured, desperately grabbing a towel and rushing towards Santiago.

“Oh my god,” I squealed, dropping the tray on the floor, landing in the pool of coffee, splashing more on his pants. His gaze lowered to the new incident. And his eyes didn’t exactly get kinder.

“Señor Morales,” Javier’s voice was heavy with equally respect and regret. “Please allow me to – “

Before he could reach Santiago with the towel, Santiago raised a single hand to silence him – and the entire café. In the same moment, the espresso machine hissed, and hot espresso burned Dom’s hand, making him yell out, swearing in Spanish. Santiago’s gaze flickered to Dom’s, eyes burning with fury. Ana’s hand shot out, covering her cousin’s mouth, muffling his sounds.

“Enough,” Santiago’s voice cut through the café. His eyes found mine again, smoldering and intense.

“You, la nueva chica,” his voice was calm, too calm. “You will handle this.”

“Ehm,” I glanced at Javier, uncertain what to do. “Sir, I –” My voice began, but Javier’s sharp whisper cut me off. “Do as he say, Valerie. Anything he says.” He thrust the towel into my hands.

My throat tightened. “Yes, sir.”

Santiago gave a small, humorless smile, the kind that made my stomach twist. “Good girl.”

He extended his hand, gestured for me to lead the way. “Back room, now.”

I swallowed before simply nodding, and turned. Every instinct in my body screamed at me not to move, not to breathe. But my feet betrayed me, carrying me across the floor towards the staff room while my hands desperately clutched the towel in my hand.

I reached the door, my trembling hand fudging with the handle before pushing the door open, making a creaking sound that did nothing to help my hammering heart. I took one hesitant step inside – the light dimmer, the air cooler.

Behind me I heard his slow, deliberate footsteps following.

The door shut, and the café chatter faded to a distant hum.

Click. It was the lock.

My body started to tingle. We were alone.

He took a step toward me, me still with my back to him – too afraid to face and turn him. His smell curled around me. Clean rain, dark cologne… coffee.

“Look at me.” His voice was low, calm – but the authority in it made me swirl instantly, despite my fear.

He stood only a few feet away, the dark fabric ruined by my clumsy mistake. His eyes swept over me, and I felt stripped bare beneath his gaze.

“Do you always make this kind of first impression,” he said, “or am I just special?”

“I – I’m so sorry, Señor Morales – “

“Santiago,” he corrected softly, Spanish accent curling around every syllable. “If you’re going to ruin a man’s jacket, the least you can do is use his first name.”

“I didn’t mean to – “

He lifted a hand, silencing me effortlessly. Again. “You didn’t mean to,” he repeated. “That’s your response to costing me thousands of euros?”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

He chuckled – a deep, rough sound. “Dulce, if I wanted it cleaned, I’d just handed it to Javier. But this…” His eyes lingered on the brown stains splashed across his jacket, “…this is about something entirely else.”

Santiago glanced around, his gaze lingering on the small wooden chair by the desk. “That’ll do,” he murmured, walking toward it while he shrugged out of his ruined jacket, tossing it across the desk – revealing his white shirt, also stained with coffee. Then he sat, legs spread, posture relaxed like he owned the place. He gestured lazily toward me. “Well? I’m waiting. You made the mess. Clean it.”

I hesitated. “You want me to…?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” he asked, his tone soft – too soft.

I stepped closer, reluctantly, still clutching the towel Javier had given me. “I – I’ll try to get it out, Señor Morales.”

“Santiago,” he corrected smoothly.

I dropped my gaze as I knelt in front of him, trying to keep my hands steady as I gently dapped at the dark stain across his shirt – very careful not to smudge it.

He didn’t look away – his eyes were following every movement of my hands. Every now and then, I felt his gaze lingering on my face. Watching me.

His cologne hit me again – warm, musky, intoxicating.

He watched me work for a moment, then his voice dropped, lower now – and infinitely more dangerous. “You know,” he murmured, “where I come from, a girl making a mess like this…”

He leaned forward slightly, his tone like a whisper of velvet and threat. “…wouldn’t be given a towel.”

I stiffened, careful not to raise my gaze. “Wh-what do you mean?”

His hand shot out – fast – catching my wrist before I could pull away. His grip was firm but not cruel. Just enough to make me feel the strength under his calm. With his thumb he brushed the inside of my wrist, my pulse racing beneath it.

“I mean,” he said quietly, “she’d be across my lap until she learned to be careful.”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. I still didn’t dare look at him, just keeping my stare fixed on the stain. But then, slowly, he released me.

“Finish.”

I forced my trembling hands to move again, pressing the towel gently against the fabric of his shirt. My fingers brushed his chest, warm and solid beneath the damp cotton.

After a long silence, he grinned, amusement in his voice. “Do I scare you, nueva chica?”

I hesitated a bit too long, before answering. “…No.”

“Liar – you’re avoiding my eyes. That’s a sign of fear.”

“I’m trying to be respectful.” My voice came out too thin.

He chuckled, mockingly. “A little too late for that, don’t you think?”

My gaze finally raised to his, and the intensity in it made my hands stop moving. I swallowed, trying to steady my heart.

“I didn’t mean to spill – “

“You keep saying that like it makes a difference.” His smirk deepened.

He leaned back, eyes still locked on mine.

“But I didn’t come here to discipline Javier’s staff - I have business to attend to.”

Then he leaned forward with a devilish smile.

“You’ll just have to pay for it later.”