Ella Carter had dealt with many customers before.
Some were picky.
Some were impatient.
Some simply didn't know what they wanted.
But Jose Alvarez was something entirely different.
The man had walked into her shop like he owned the street, insulted her work without hesitation, demanded an impossible deadline, and somehow still managed to leave as if he had done her a favor.
Ella let out a frustrated sigh as she adjusted the fabric beneath her sewing machine.
"Three days," she muttered under her breath. "The nerve of that man."
The steady hum of the sewing machine filled the shop again, but her concentration wasn't the same as before. Every few minutes, she found herself replaying the conversation in her head.
His tone.
His confidence.
His arrogance.
And the way he had looked around her shop as if judging every single thing inside it.
Ella shook her head.
"Forget him," she told herself.
But strangely enough, she couldn't.
The rest of the day passed quietly. A few customers came in for simple clothing adjustments, and Ella buried herself in work until evening.
By the time she closed the shop and walked home, the memory of Jose Alvarez had finally faded into the background of her thoughts.
At least, that was what she believed.
Because the next morning proved otherwise.
Ella arrived at the shop earlier than usual.
The morning air was still cool as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. She turned on the lights, opened the windows, and began arranging the fabrics she planned to use that day.
The street outside slowly came to life.
The bakery next door filled the air with the smell of fresh bread.
A delivery truck passed by.
Someone laughed in the distance.
Everything felt normal.
Peaceful.
Ella had just sat down behind her sewing machine when—
Ding.
The bell above the door rang.
She didn't bother looking up immediately.
"Good morning," she said politely while threading a needle. "How can I—"
Her voice stopped.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
And there he was.
Jose Alvarez.
Standing in the doorway like he had every right to be there.
He was dressed differently today. Instead of a black suit, he wore a crisp white shirt with dark trousers, the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, with his dark sunglasses.
Yet somehow, he still looked just as intimidating.
His dark eyes met hers immediately.
"You're early," he said.
Ella blinked.
"I work here," she replied dryly.
Jose stepped inside, his gaze briefly scanning the shop again before returning to her.
"I assume you've reconsidered my request."
Ella folded her arms.
"No."
Jose raised an eyebrow.
"No?"
"Three days is impossible for a custom suit," she said firmly. "I told you that yesterday."
Jose walked toward the worktable and placed the same expensive fabric on it again.
"I don't accept the impossible."
Ella sighed.
"And I don't accept unreasonable customers."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence stretched between them like a tight thread.
Then, unexpectedly—
Jose chuckled.
It was a quiet sound, but it caught Ella completely off guard.
"You're different," he said.
Ella frowned.
"Different from what?"
"The tailors I usually work with," he replied.
"And that's supposed to be a compliment?"
Jose shrugged slightly.
"It's an observation."
Ella stared at him for a moment before finally reaching for her measuring tape again.
"Fine," she said. "Let's start again."
Jose stepped closer.
This time, Ella took her time measuring him carefully.
Shoulders.
Chest.
Arms.
Waist.
But just like the day before, Jose had something to say about every step.
"That's too loose."
"That measurement is wrong."
"The sleeve should be shorter."
Ella's patience was slowly wearing thin.
Finally, she lowered the tape and looked up at him.
"Mr. Alvarez."
"Yes?"
"If you know so much about tailoring, why don't you just make the suit yourself?"
Jose stared at her.
For a second, she wondered if she had gone too far.
But instead of getting angry, something unexpected appeared in his eyes.
Amusement.
"You're very bold," he said.
"I'm very honest," Ella corrected.
Jose studied her carefully, as if trying to understand her.
Most people backed down when he spoke.
Most people tried to please him.
But Ella Carter?
She argued with him like she had nothing to lose.
Strangely enough…
He found that interesting.
"Tell me something," Jose said suddenly.
Ella continued writing down measurements.
"What?"
"Why are you working here?"
Ella paused.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the pen.
"This is my shop," she said quietly.
Jose looked around the small space again.
"Seems like a lot of effort for such a small business."
The comment hit a nerve.
Ella slowly set the notebook down.
"This shop belonged to my mother," she said.
Jose didn't interrupt.
"She opened it years ago," Ella continued. "And when she passed away… I took over."
Her voice softened slightly.
"It's not just a business to me."
For the first time since he walked in, Jose's expression changed.
The cold edge in his eyes faded slightly.
"I see," he said.
Ella quickly returned to work.
"Well, now you know," she said. "So if you still want the suit, I'll do my best."
Jose watched her quietly.
Then he asked something unexpected.
"How long will it really take?"
Ella hesitated.
"If I rush," she admitted, "maybe a week."
Jose nodded slowly.
"Fine."
Ella blinked.
"Fine?"
"Yes."
"That's it?"
Jose picked up the fabric and placed it back on the table.
"I'll come for the first fitting in three days."
Ella stared at him.
"Wait—what?"
But Jose was already walking toward the door.
Before leaving, he stopped and glanced back at her.
"Oh," he added casually.
"There's one more thing."
Ella sighed.
"What now?"
Jose's lips curved into the faintest smile.
"I ordered five suits."
Ella froze.
"Five?"
"Yes."
"And I need them all before the end of the month."
Ella's jaw dropped slightly.
"Are you serious?"
Jose opened the door.
The morning light spilled into the shop.
Then he looked at her one last time.
"Let's see if you're as talented as people say, Miss Carter."
Ding.
The door closed behind him again.
Ella stood there in complete silence.
Five suits.
In one month.
For the most impossible customer she had ever met.
She slowly looked down at the expensive fabric on the table.
Then she groaned softly.
Something told her this job was going to be a lot more complicated than she expected.
And deep down…
She had the strange feeling that Jose Alvarez hadn't chosen her shop by accident.
Not at all.