Chapter One
One week earlier
Alison Myers, 28 year-old barista at the Midtown Manhattan branch of the Tête-á-Tête gourmet coffee house franchise, was struggling to get through the morning and through her life. She pushed back her long blonde hair and tried to focus. The customer in front of her was angry. They were all angry today. It was a Monday from hell. Heavy rain poured down outside onto a gray New York City and the grumpy morning office crowd was being even more obnoxious than usual. New Yorkers like things fast and they don't like mistakes.
It was a far cry from the small Midwestern town Alison had been raised in, pouring coffee in her uncle’s little rest stop café. People had all been so nice there. Slow, but nice. Now this guy was shouting at her and there was a long line of irate customers behind him.
Alison felt like throwing her barista’s apron on the ground, hightailing it out of the shop as far away as she could get.
"I'm sorry sir, could you repeat that?"
"How many goddamn times do I have to repeat it?"
Jeez, you only asked me once. She thought.
"Where's the goddamn manager?" He screamed.
Sebastian Drummond stood behind the pretty blonde and struggled to fight his instincts to go and over and throw the man out into the street. He had to remember that he was no longer Sebastian Drummond the billionaire, but Daniel Johnson, the brand new, entry level, empty the trash and mop the floor guy at the Tête-á-Tête café in Midtown Manhattan.
There was a reason he had to conceal his identity.
Don't screw it up this time, Sebastian. He thought.
"Sir, if you'll just repeat the order,” he said, mastering his anger, "I'll be happy to take care of it for you." If it was anything he had a talent for, it was controlling and manipulating people.
Not that he was exactly proud of it.
"I don’t want to repeat the order. If I wanted to repeat orders, I would have joined the Marines. I asked to see a manager and I'm not leaving this goddamn counter," he glared behind him at the long line of exasperated customers, "until I see someone in charge."
"I'm the manager here." Sebastian said with absolute confidence. The petite blonde woman was right in front of him and already he could feel her, wanting to reach out to her and hold her. It was his first day on the job -- his first hour -- and he was supposed to stay out back, emptying trash, cleaning the floor, and lifting boxes, but he didn't care. He could have bought the café on a whim if he wanted to, or even the entire chain if he felt like it.
Alison heard the deep, commanding, masculine voice behind her. She didn’t recognize it but she could see that the angry customer was already taking things down a notch.
"I’m the manager." Sebastian repeated firmly.
"Oh," the man said, "is that right?"
"That's right, sir. My name is Daniel Johnson and I'm the supervisor here today. I'll be happy to help with your complaint."
Alison stepped aside. The guy must be new. She had never seen him before, but there had been no talk of a new manager and certainly nothing about a drop-dead gorgeous Greek god come-to-earth manager. All of a sudden, the morning didn't seem so bleak. Even under his Tête-á-Tête Coffee Shop uniform, his tall, muscular frame left no doubt as to his rippling masculinity. He was definitely all man, whoever he was, and sexiest of all was his manner. This was a guy who knew exactly who he was and had absolute self-confidence.
Sebastian didn't even know her name but as soon as he saw her face, it came to him in a flash: she was the one. He had to know her. He had to have her.
She would be his and his alone forever, but she had to take him for who he was; no billionaire bullshit. She would want him as Daniel Johnson, minimum wage wannabe barista or she wouldn’t want him at all.
He read her nametag and a surge of apprehension went through him. Even though he towered above her, he couldn’t shake the thought.
What if she doesn't like me?
Normally, he didn’t care.
"This girl, Alison," the customer squinted at her name tag, "just can't seem to get my order straight."
"Well I'm very sorry about that, sir. Can I take your order for you? It's on the house of course."
"Huh. Well, I guess that would be okay." He huffed. "But what about her?" He said. "Are you going to do something about her?"
"Of course sir," the new manager said in his soft, sexy commanding tone, "I'll attend to Alison myself and make absolutely sure that the proper disciplinary procedures are adhered to. And you can have my number if you would like to follow up on that." He reached into his shirt pocket but the little man had calmed down by now and waved it away.
Stupid little asshole. He thought. You don't know how lucky you are.
He gave Alison a tiny wink and complicit smile to let her know that it was all hot air and she should forget about it.
Wow. She thought. Who the hell is this guy?
The line didn't get any shorter for an hour and the New Yorkers didn’t get any friendlier, but Alison was as light as a feather in her work. She had forgotten she could even feel that way. It had been a long time since there had been anybody like that on their team. In fact, it was the first time. This guy wasn’t just cute, he was a knock out hunk with moviestar looks and that super-confident understated charm to boot. She smiled back at him.
God, you're beautiful. He thought. I can't wait to get you out of this place to somewhere you deserve to be. First things first though. First things first.
He poured coffee for the customer and went back into the rear of the shop as quickly as he could. After all, he could still get fired and then how would he get to spend time with this girl he needed to be next to? Even though he had been living incognito for nearly a full year, he was still not quite used to holding off on his desires. He had been rich from birth and superrich since adolescence, so he always got what he wanted and when he wanted. But this would have to be different, just like with Melanie. He would have to work for this girl, literally sweat, but it would be worth it finally, when he would take her to his bed and be with her as only a devoted lover can. She would scream his name -- his real name -- like no woman ever before her and she would mean it.
Guaranteed.
The next hour was a torture as he learned the mundane routine of the shop and being talked down to by MJ, his new manager. She was nice enough but kind of crusty and a bit of a motormouth, but obviously good at her job. She even had a great rack and a year ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about taking her in the sack. In fact, if he had met her a year ago, he probably would have already boned her in the lockerroom before they even knew each other's names.
But not anymore. This was the new Sebastian Drummond. Looking for love, not lust -- not just lust anyway.
Alison watched him go. Something didn’t add up but she was too tired, dazed, and busy to figure it out. In the meantime, all she wanted to do was see him again. It felt like some stupid high school crush, but boy did it make a change from the routine. She was no longer some silly little single girl from the boonies with her first job in New York City. She was a grown-up now, with a steady boyfriend, and plans to work hard as hell to save her pennies to go to college. Workplace flirtations really weren’t her thing. God knows she didn’t need the distraction. The staff at Tête-á-Tête was almost exclusively female and that suited her perfectly.
But boy, this new guy was something else.
Her regular manager and best friend Mary Jane came on duty and she couldn't help but ask about him.
"Hey," she whispered as she sprinkled chocolate onto a cappuccino, "why didn't you tell me that sexy new guy Daniel had started? At last we have some eye candy around here for the ladies." She joked.
"Daniel!" She snorted. "How do you even know about him? Did you meet him out back?"
"No, right here out front. He helped me with some little asshole angry pants who was giving me a hard time."
"Did he now?" Her friend and manager said. "Well we'll have to see about that."
"What do you mean?"
"He shouldn't even be out here. He's in non-customer contact training all day. No way is he ready for real customers yet."
Alison did a double-take.
Not ready for customers? That meant…
She knew how dedicated her friend was to the job. If the new guy had impersonated a manager, then MJ would go crazy. As much as she loved her friend, the guy had done her a favor. She wouldn’t tell on him, not even to MJ. It wouldn’t be fair.
"Well, he did an awesome job. Definitely manager material. That guy just took one look at him and turned into a purring kitty cat right away."
"Yeah, well don't get too excited. The only things he'll be managing for a long time will be a mop and bucket. It’ll be weeks before we even try him out on the floor with paying customers."
"You're kidding me, right?" Alison was incredulous. "This damn coffee chain with its pretensions of being corporate. They couldn't spot talent if it came up and slapped them in the chops."
Her friend gave her a long look and sighed.
"Oh Alison, come on. Don't start with this again. I absolutely forbid you to go near this guy."
Alison's jaw dropped.
"What are you talking about?"
"No more minimum wage losers, okay?"
"Mary Jane, how can you even say something like that?"
MJ pulled her aside and ordered another barista to cover for them.
"Come on honey, we're taking a break. I need to have a serious talk with you. Haven't you learned your lesson by now?"
Alison was incensed. She loved her friend dearly, in fact, since she had lost her parents and had no siblings Mary Jane was the closest thing to family she had anymore. She respected her friend's opinion but sometimes she could be too controlling.
"How can you be so materialistic, MJ? And besides, I'm already dating someone. I'm just saying that this new guy is a hottie, that's all. There's no need to get all worried and protective about it."
"Dating? Surely, you’re not referring to that uber-loser Brad. The waste of space with the pretty face? The cute little ass you just have to pass? The good-looking schmuck you don't need to fu--"
"Stop it, MJ. He's a good guy."
"He is not and the sooner you realize that, the better. You and I both know that joker is just one screwed-up order away from being homeless."
The two lapsed into an angry silence. Alison took a nervous pull on her cigarette. MJ looked at her disapprovingly.
"And when are you going to quit those things as well?"
Alison stubbed out her cigarette and gave her friend a guilty look.
"Well I can't argue with you about those. I've picked a day and I'm going to do it. But look, MJ, I need a favor."
"You know you only need to ask, Alison. What is it?" The truth was that MJ really just wanted to help her friend and couldn't bear to see her used up by men she considered selfish dogs and hopeless cases. Alison was like her long-lost little sister. She was an only child herself and apart from her senile aged mother in a nursing home, she was alone in the world.
"I need another sub." She looked at the ground, sheepishly.
"How much this time?"
"Two hundred bucks. Three hundred if you can manage it."
"What's it for?"
"Look, can I just have the money without the third degree?"
"Alison, I can lend you money if you want, it doesn't have to come out of your next pay check."
"I've borrowed enough money from you already, MJ. I'd rather let Tête-á-Tête cover this one. Then I know it’ll get paid back on time and I won't have to leave anyone waiting."
"Tell me what it is, Alison. Please, just let me help."
End of Sample
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