"Planning to poison me?"
The fuc----
"Ouch!" I step back in shock as scalding coffee splatters on my feet, the mug shattering into pieces on the floor.
"Easy there. Are you okay?"
I raise my head to find coffee bastard staring at me. What's that in his eyes? Concern? I must be hallucinating.
"Yes sir." I reply tentatively.
"I have to say that the pour was poorly timed."
"I'm sorry?"
"Did you think pouring hot coffee on me was going to make us even?"
"Excuse me?"
Screw what I said earlier. It wasn't any concern. I was fucking hallucinating.
"You owe me a coffee Hazel. I won't drink it if you poured it on me."
Trust coffee bastard to remain true to his annoying self.
I fight the urge to claw at his face.
Guess what? Xavier Steele seems to be calling out personalities I didn't know existed in me.
Maybe it's just my coping mechanism.
"I was making coffee for myself sir." I press my lips into a thin line.
"Really? Here I was thinking you were planning to murder me in cold blood with the way you were staring into the mug."
"I was lost in thought sir."
"Hmm. I could act as a therapist." Xavier leans against the granite countertop in the breakroom on the top floor, his index finger trailing the patterns in the table.
"What?"
Is coffee bastard trying to make a joke?
I steal a look at his face but he looks as impervious as ever, dismissive, arrogant, confident and unconcerned.
"Is your boss giving you trouble, lady?" Xavier quirks an eyebrow at me.
"You're my ---- boss." I say slowly, looking at the sides of coffee bastard's head to see if he's got a screw or two loose.
"I'm guessing that I'm the new topic of interest to your therapist. Did you make sure to mention that you go about with a tendency to ensure that coffee is not safe around you?."
Fuck you!
I can't even afford to pay a therapist at the moment but I will make sure to tell Chatgpt and one thing is sure, Chatgpt is always on my side!
I step back from the puddle of coffee on the floor noticing it starting to stain Xavier's expensive Italian hand-made shoes.
"I should get mop to clean the mess." I say.
"Don't worry about that. Have someone from the cleaning crew come clean it."
"But you don't like having 'outsiders' here. I won't take long." I counter.
"Learn to delegate unimportant tasks Hazel. I need you for something."
"Oh. What is it sir?"
My eyes travel to the floor watching as Xavier's feet step away from the puddle.
Is it wrong to feel bad? Cos' I do.
I wanted his shoes to soak up the coffee even if it's just wishful thinking.
And now, I feel bad that the shoe did not spoil according to my wish.
I grab my phone sending a short text to the ground floor receptionist to send someone to come and clean the floor while I follow Xavier who was already heading back into his office.
I shut the door behind me surprised by the sight of him changing into new shoes. This time, a black colored shoe.
He tosses me the ones with the coffee stains, "Send this to my shoemaker."
I manage to grab one with the other one hitting me squarely in the tummy.
"Wh-- where's your shoemaker located sir?"
"Check the back of the bag." Xavier says flippantly.
I call out unsurely, "Sir?"
"What?" Xavier asks
"It says Milan on here." My voice is lower than usual in a questioning tone.
"Yeah. The shoemaker's in Milan."
"Okay, good. Here are the documents." He stretches a blue colored folder to me.
I collect the folder absentmindedly.
Milan? His shoemaker is in Milan? How am I supposed to get this there?
"---- we'll have to leave as soon as we can. Hazel?"
"Sir?"
"Did you get me?"
"How do I get this to Milan?''
Coffee bastard looks at me with a ridiculous look on his face, " Are you from the 80s or did you grow up underground?"
I press my lips into a thin line, "No sir."
"I can't tell if you're messing with me or not. We leave for Switzerland at dawn on Saturday. The documents are in the folder I just handed you."
I turn over the folder in my hand.
"You can go."
"What about the sh ---- sh--- shoes?" I stutter.
"Just get out, Hazel."
***
'Please tell me you didn' t ask Xavier Steele how to get his shoes to Milannn!'
I stare at the message on my phone from Sloane for a minute before typing back.
It's that bad?
You'll seeeeem incompetent. Even to me, that sounds crazy incompetence!
But it was a normal question!.
It certainly isn't. Did your coffee bastard say anything when you asked him that question?
I pause, my hand stilling for a bit remembering Xavier's reaction to the question.
He didn't. I type back lying.
That's new.
What do you mean?
Judging from how you said he takes every opportunity to make you feel less of a person, it's surprising he didn't capitalize on this.
That's not the major issue here.
??
I pause, drawing the corner of my lip inwards for an unconscious bite.
How do I get the shoes to Milan? Do I have to travel there?
??
I'm serious Sloane.
What happened to express delivery? You know platforms like DHL?
My palm flies up to my face meeting it in a slap. How the heck did I not think of something as simple as that? I just need to message the company and ---- oh my gosh. I must have truly sounded stupid or am I losing the last of my brain cells working with a Xavier Steele?
It is truly concerning.
The buzz from my phone reminded me that Sloane and I were still in a texting conversation.
Heck, I'm not your boss and I'm already thinking of you as less of a secretary. It is concerning, Hazel.
I don't reply.
But Sloane doesn't stop. She sends another message.
What is he doing? Sending his stained pair
of shoes back to the shoemaker? Can't he just have it cleaned?
I sigh at her message.
I don't know too Sloane. I don't know and I sure as heck have no courage to ask.