Chapter 1 — The Coffee Spill
Monday mornings were supposed to be peaceful.
But for Maya Daniels, peace lasted exactly three minutes — until her oversized latte decided to jump out of her hand and baptize a stranger's white shirt.
" Oh my God — I'm so sorry!" she gasped, waving napkins like a flag of surrender.
The man stood still, drenched, blinking as though his entire day had just been rewritten.
He was tall. Too tall. With sharp cheekbones and the kind of serious face that could probably silence a boardroom — or in this case, a clumsy woman in a coffee shop.
"It's fine," he muttered, dabbing his shirt, though it clearly wasn't.
"No, it's not! I can fix it!" Maya blurted, dabbing harder — directly over his chest — realizing too late how that looked. His brows shot up.
"Miss, you're making it worse."
She froze. "Right. I should stop touching you."
The barista snorted behind the counter.
The man sighed, glancing at his watch. "I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. Now I look like a walking latte."
Maya bit her lip. "Please, let me make it up to you. I work at the laundry two blocks away. I'll get it cleaned for free."
He hesitated — irritation melting into reluctant amusement.
"Do you always cause disasters before breakfast?"
"Only when the universe gets bored," she replied, forcing a smile.
His lips twitched. "Nathan Reed." He extended his hand, still damp with coffee.
"Maya Daniels. Professional fumbler."
And just like that, amid spilled caffeine and secondhand embarrassment, something shifted — not fate exactly, b
ut maybe the first fumble of it.