Chapter 1

1

CALEB

T he coffee appears on the corner of my desk, irritating me. I recognize the familiar red and pink design. I should. I go to the little coffee shop around the corner every day.

The coffee is shit, but still I go and choke it down. In fact, I had planned to leave at my regular time in ten minutes and walk over to the small shop. So why is there one now on my desk? It doesn't have the little heart that Gabriella always doodles on it. I've noticed she only does that on mine, where others would get happy faces or, as of late, snowflakes.

“Morning, sir.” Lauren gives me a bright smile. I hate it. Who the hell is this cheerful in the morning?

A redheaded fairy comes to mind. It fits her, though, with her wild curls, rosy cheeks, and emerald eyes. The girl's round cheeks were even adorned with dimples. I dream about those damn dimples. If I’m being honest, those aren’t the only attributes I’ve dreamt of when it comes to her. Cheerful actually perfectly complements Gabriella's bubbly personality.

Lauren, on the other hand, is consistently well-groomed and put together. Cheerful doesn't seem to fit that. There's not a single hair out of place in her stick-straight blonde hair. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I too put on a crisp custom suit each morning, but no one would ever say that I was cheerful. In fact, around this time of year, I hear a few whispers of me being a scrooge when they think I'm out of earshot. I don't care. I want them to think I'm an asshole. It keeps them from bothering me and continuing to do their jobs.

But Lauren is cold for the most part. I am too. It normally makes us work well together, except that lately she hasn’t been so cold. It must be the holiday spirit getting to everyone. It’s infecting my staff. That is also annoying. Thankfully, the holiday will be over soon, and the office will return to normal.

“What did I tell you about getting my coffee?” Lauren's shiny red lips purse, letting me know she doesn’t care for my question, but she wouldn’t dare say that to me. Not that I give a shit that she doesn’t like it. That’s not my problem. In fact, it’s Lauren's job to deal with my problems, not make more of them.

"I thought that since you had a busy day, I'd get this out of the way." I want to snap at her. I pay Lauren well because she does think ahead. I don’t have to micromanage her. I usually don’t even have to have this much small talk with her. I only say what's necessary for us to get work done.

“But I gave you strict orders on this one, and I don’t enjoy repeating myself.”

"I'm sorry, sir." I stand up, grab the coffee, and toss it into the trash.

“Keep an eye out for the finalized Kingston paperwork. I want to get started on the project as soon as possible.”

“Not before the holiday?”

“If I wanted to get started after the holiday, that's what I would have said.” I swear it’s like Lauren is new here or something. As though she doesn’t know that I couldn’t care less if it’s a holiday, birthday, or any other day that normal people make a fuss about and celebrate.

“Of course.”

“I’ll be back before the ten o'clock meeting.”

Lauren responds, but I’m not listening to her.

I'm already boarding the elevator and putting on my coat. I hit the button for the ground floor over and over again, knowing full well that it doesn't do shit to speed it up, but I'm on edge. I always am at this time because it has been too long since the last time I've seen her. I’m like a damn addict, needing their fix. But mine isn’t drugs or some other vice. It’s a bubbly redhead.

The fucking elevator stops four times to let people on and off. The holiday music in here is too loud. Who the hell approved that? I make a mental note to have it turned off completely.

Thankfully, the walk to the coffee shop Cup of Sugar isn’t long. The sidewalk is filled with people doing their holiday shopping. A new layer of fresh snow is starting to fall. Only a little while longer , I remind myself. Then the world will return to normal.

I pause when I enter the coffee shop, not seeing my girl anywhere. She always stands out, like a bright star in this place. Why are there always so many people in here? You can smell the burnt coffee when you walk in the door. No wonder it’s called Cup of Sugar, because you need a cup of it to help swallow it down.

I stand back and wait. She might be in the back. I'll wait for her return before placing my order. Otherwise, it would be pointless. Gabriella is the only reason I choke down the shit from here. It is worth it.

People come and go, but my girl never comes out from the back. I know her schedule. She should be here today. I also know that she left for work this morning.

I pull out my phone and check my alerts. I see a few from Cole. I click them immediately. My hand on my phone tightens when I see a picture he snapped of Gabriella leaving the coffee shop about thirty minutes ago. Her normally rosy cheeks are redder than usual and streaked with tears.

Cole: I think she might have been fired.

Me: Think?

Cole: It was grill the owner or follow her. Figured you would want the latter.

Me: Fine

I fire back.

Cole: That's what I thought.

Bastard made the right choice, but for as much as he cost, he should.

Me: I'll deal with the owner.

I stuff my phone back into my pocket, making my way up to the counter.

"Good morning," the girl behind the counter chirps. "What can I get you?"

"I need to speak to Jim."

"He's on a call."

"I don't care."

"Right," the girl says nervously. "I'll go get him." I pull out my wallet and shove a hundred into the tip jar. She scurries off. I fold my arms over my chest and wait. Something I'm not good at. After a minute, I'm done. I go around the counter. One of the baristas is about to say something, but my hard stare has them turning around and taking the next order. I push through the swinging door.

"He's still on the phone." She points towards the open door of the office. I nod for her to go. She doesn't have to be asked twice. I wait for her to leave before entering the small office.

"Who are you?" Jim, the owner asks. Yes, I know all about Jim. I pluck the phone out of his hand, ending the call before tossing it onto his desk.

“I’m here for us to have a little chat.” I close the office door, and the man’s eyes widen in fear… as they should.