Coffee Over Tea

chapter 1 | claire

Claire's POV

I wake up to my alarm blaring and unceremoniously get out of bed to turn it off. I yawn and go to the bathroom to quickly wash my face and brush my teeth before changing into athletic shorts and a tank top. Grabbing my phone, earbuds, and socks and shoes, I make my way to my front door and head out to do my morning run.

I finish my fifth mile and decide that's enough for this morning and start doing my cool down stretches once I've reached my apartment building again. I'm lifting my head from bending over to stretch my legs when it collides with something.

I hear a wince as I yelp. Looking up, I see a man in a suit with his hand over his now bleeding nose. My eyes widen. "Oh, my, God. Are you okay?"

He glares at me. "Do you I look okay?"

I ignore his tone. "I'm so sorry. This is my building. Come inside and I'll get you a towel."

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pack of tissues. He wipes his nose before saying, "I'm fine."

I purse my lips before telling him, "Well you have blood on your shirt."

He looks down in annoyance. "Shit! Now I have to change."

He walks into the building and I follow. "You live here, too?"

He ignored me as we enter the elevator. It stops on floor seven and we both get out.

"And you live on my floor. Great," I say in embarrassment.

He glares at me again before leaving me to go to his own apartment.

Four apartments on my floor and I've never seen him until today. What a first impression.

"Sorry again!" I yell at his retreating figure.

Once I'm inside my apartment, I go straight to the shower to forget about this messy morning. Once I finish, I get dressed for my first day at Evans' Industries.

I quickly make a strawberry and banana smoothie before giving myself one last look in the mirror and heading off to work.

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I stand outside the double doors of Mr. Evans's office and smooth out my outfit before turning the knob.

"-and I don't even know how to get blood stains out."

Mr. Evans chuckles. "Well, was she at least pretty?"

I clear my throat. "Am I interrupting a meeting?"

Mr. Evans and the other man turn to me. "Oh, no. Come in Claire. This is my son, Beckett. I mentioned him yesterday."

"It's nice to-" I begin to tell Beckett but shock cuts me short. My cheeks immediately burn when I realize who he is. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry. This makes the situation even worse. I'm sorry a million times over."

Beckett gives me the same icy glare from this morning. Suddenly Mr. Evans bursts out laughing. "Claire is who you were talking about?" He laughs even harder. "Oh, my! This is just hilarious!"

My cheeks are on fire at this point. I mumble, "This is so embarrassing."

Mr. Evans calms himself down. "I suppose I don't need to introduce you two. Claire, your desk is over there by the window. There are some papers that I need you to file by date for me."

I sheepishly make my way there and immediately get to work.

About an hour and a half later, I'm finally finished with Mr. Evans' task. When he said "some papers," he meant five stacks six inches high each. I sigh as I close the filing cabinet and turn to my boss. He looks up.

"Done already?" he asks, looking slightly shocked.

I nod. "Yes, sir. What else do you need me to do?"

He thinks for a moment. "To be honest, I thought that would take you at least until lunch. Beckett's office is directly outside on the right. You can't miss it. He'll talk to you."

I nod again and exit his office. He was right. Beckett's office has four giant windows with a door directly in the middle. I can see him through the glass with his back turned to me so I knock. He spins around in his chair and motions for me to come in.

As I open the door I say, "Mr. Evans said to come here so you could speak with me."

Beckett just stares at me with an unreadable expression. When he finally talks, he uses a clipped tone. "I need you to research something for me."

I wait a few seconds for him to continue but he doesn't. I gesture for him to keep going. "Are you going to tell me what this something is?"

He makes no effort to hide the annoyed look now on his face. "Figure out where we can save money in our budget. Here."

I take the thick manila folder from his outstretched hand and begin to leave before I stop myself. I turn around to face him again. "By the way," I start, " whatever you do, don't try to bleach out that blood. Soak your shirt in stain remover for a few hours and then wash it on cold. Don't put it in the dryer until the stain is out or it'll set. Just keep letting it soak and wash until it comes out completely."

Beckett furrows his eyebrows. "Um... thanks, I guess."

I smile at him before returning to my desk.

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I stretch my arms and yawn as I look at the time. Eleven fifty-six! For the next four minutes my eyes flit between the clock and my work. Finally, it's twelve and time for lunch. I get up and grab my large tote. I tell Mr. Evans that I'm going to lunch and leave. I make my way down the street to my regular gym and then straight to the locker room to change. Ten minutes later, I'm off the treadmill and in a shower. When I've changed back into my work clothes, I look at the time. I still have forty minutes until I have to be back.

For about five minutes I wander around the city before finding myself at a food truck park. I quickly spot my favorite one and order my go-to meal. As I get my food and go to find I bench to sit and eat, I make eye contact with a familiar face. Beckett waves me over and I take a seat next to him. For a few minutes neither of us speak, but eventually he talks.

"So what exactly is that?" he asks, pointing at my lunch.

I glance at him then back down at my food. "It's rice with stir-fried tofu, chicken, purple lettuce, cabbage, carrots, broccoli, and chick peas. It's really good."

He raises his eyebrows. "That's a lot of protein."

"I workout a lot," I inform him.

He glances at my hair. "Is that why your hair is damp?"

I nod and give him a small smile. "You caught me."

We fall back into silence, and I watch people go by. After a while I feel Beckett's eyes on me. I turn to him and notice that he's done eating. "What?" I ask.

"You eat slow."

My cheeks redden. "Maybe you just eat fast."

He shows me the time on his phone. "We've been here for almost twenty minutes."

I roll my eyes. "Sorry I like to enjoy my food and not choke it down."

He laughs at that and doesn't say anything else until I finish eating. "Are you finally done?"

"Yes, Mr. Impatient," I respond with another eye roll.

He takes our empty food containers and throws them away. When he comes back, I stand and we make our way back to the office.