Monday, February 3, 2025
It's morning, and I'm running terribly late for work. Damn it! Why did I have to sleep in so much? If my boss finds out, he's going to kill me. And no, I'm not exaggerating. Mr. Daniel has a terrible reputation. They say he's extremely high-strung and strict. Whenever he walks down the hallways, he wears that serious, almost gloomy expression. He never smiles. And honestly, judging by his face, maybe all those rumors are true.
I've only been working at the company for a month and a half. I'm part of the administrative department at a coffee factory. As soon as I arrive, I grab a quick cup of coffee, hoping to make up for lost time, and rush toward my department.
That's when it happens.
I bump into someone in the hallway, and... the coffee goes flying out of my hand. Everything seems to happen in slow motion. The hot drink splashes right onto the white shirt of the person standing in front of me.
"S-Sorry!" I blurt out, turning my head to see who I've run into.
And then my heart stops.
It's him. Mr. Daniel. My boss.
With coffee all over his shirt.
And he's staring at me with an icy, unshakable expression.
My hands begin to tremble. I can feel my face burning. I quickly pull a handkerchief out of my pocket and try, unsuccessfully, to wipe away the stain.
"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry, sir!" I stammer desperately.
He stares at me for a few seconds, his piercing eyes fixed on mine. Then he speaks in a low, firm voice.
"Don't worry about it, Ariel."
My heart stops.
He knows my name?!
"I'm really sorry. Please, let me pay to have your shirt cleaned!" I insist, trying to make up for the disaster I've caused.
"It's not necessary. It's fine. Just be more careful next time," he says in the same calm, frighteningly controlled tone before continuing down the hallway without looking back.
I stand frozen for a few seconds, watching him walk away. My thoughts are spiraling out of control.
He's going to fire me.
Can spilling coffee on your boss really get you fired?
Why did this have to happen to me?
When I finally make it to the office, I'm still visibly shaken. My coworkers immediately notice my expression.
"What happened, Ariel? What's with that face?" one of them asks, frowning.
"I... I spilled coffee on the boss," I reply weakly, barely able to get the words out.
"Mr. Daniel?!" another coworker exclaims, his eyes widening.
"Yeah..." I mutter, already feeling that knot of anxiety tightening in my chest again.
Silence.
They exchange horrified, pitying looks. Someone even whispers:
"Good luck, buddy..."
It's lunchtime, and I've spent the entire morning tormented by one single thought: What's going to happen to me after spilling coffee on Mr. Daniel?
We're all in the cafeteria, but I can barely swallow my food. My worries weigh more heavily on me than the food on my plate.
Then, as if fate is deliberately messing with me, Mr. Daniel walks past our table.
He's wearing the same shirt... Or is it an identical one? There's no way he could've washed and dried it so quickly. Not like that, anyway.
He walks with the same rigid posture, his expression unreadable. I lower my eyes and sit down, trying my best to become invisible.
"Enjoying your last meal at the company?" one of my coworkers jokes, pulling out the chair beside me with a mischievous grin.
"Cut it out... I'm already nervous enough," I reply, rubbing my face in frustration.
Lunch comes to an end, and I decide to make myself a cup of coffee to calm my nerves. A little coffee always helps... at least a little.
As I'm preparing it, Mr. Daniel's secretary suddenly appears.
"Oh, are you making coffee?" she asks, sounding almost casual.
"Yeah..." I answer suspiciously.
"Could you do me a favor? Would you mind taking a cup to Mr. Daniel? He always has coffee after lunch. I haven't finished eating yet, but he's already had his lunch."
My heart starts pounding.
"T-Take it to his office?" I ask, my eyes widening.
"Yes," she replies, already walking away down the hallway.
"Hey! Wait! You want me to go into Mr. Daniel's office?" I call after her, but she's already turned the corner and disappeared.
I stand there for a moment, holding the hot cup in my trembling hands. The aroma of coffee rises to my nose as a knot tightens in my throat.
I take a deep breath, trying to gather my courage. Then I head toward his office.
When I reach the door, I extend my right hand toward the doorknob... and it trembles.
Is he going to fire me now? Or will he simply ignore me? What if he's angry and decides to take it out on me?
I take another deep breath.
This is it.
Either I deliver this coffee... or I let fear get the better of me.
As I turn the doorknob, I realize something painfully obvious.
I need to knock before going in.
"What am I doing? If I just walk in like this, I'll only make things worse..." I whisper to myself nervously.
I gather my courage and knock softly.
"Sir, your coffee..." I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Come in," Mr. Daniel replies.
His voice is so calm that, to me, it sounds like the roar of a judge about to deliver a death sentence.
I step inside slowly, as though I'm walking on sacred ground. I approach his desk with careful steps and set the cup down in front of him, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.
My heart is racing.
"Here you go, sir," I murmur.
Without waiting for a response, I quickly turn around and leave the office, almost tripping over my own feet.
Phew!
He didn't say anything. Not a word!
Maybe that's a good sign?
It's almost the end of the workday, and I'm just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Mr. Daniel's secretary appears in the doorway of my department.
"Mr. Daniel wants to see you, Ariel," she announces seriously.
"Oh, my God..." I groan, putting my hands on my head as my stomach twists into knots. "This is it..."
"Good luck, buddy," one of my coworkers says, giving me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
I get to my feet, my legs feeling like jelly, walk down the hallway, and knock on the door again.
"Come in," my boss says in a firm, direct voice.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" I ask, trying to hide my nervousness as I approach his desk.
"About the coffee..."
"Sir, please forgive me! I was such an idiot, I swear it won't happen again! It was a terrible accident, and I—"
"Actually, this isn't about what happened this morning," he interrupts, looking perfectly composed. "But since you seem so eager to make amends, I've had an idea."
"Huh?" I ask in confusion, blinking several times.
"I wanted to tell you that I really enjoyed your coffee. It reminded me of the coffee my grandmother used to make. She passed away a few years ago..." His voice softens for a moment, and I catch a fleeting glimpse of longing in his eyes. "But let's get to the point. Since you're so determined to make it up to me, I'd like to propose something."
"I'm listening, sir," I say, swallowing nervously.
"I want you to make my coffee every day for the next month. Once when I arrive in the morning and again right after lunch."
For a moment, I'm frozen in place.
Then I let out a sigh of relief.
He's not going to fire me.
In fact... he wants me to make his coffee?
That's it?
"All right, sir. Leave it to me," I reply with a small, relieved smile.
"Excellent. Let's see if tomorrow's coffee tastes just as good as my grandmother's," he says.
And, by some miracle, it almost looks like the corners of his mouth lift into a tiny smile.
I leave his office with my heart still racing, but now for a different reason.
I survived...
And who would've thought? Maybe I've even made a good impression.
Friday, February 14, 2025
It's been almost two weeks since I started bringing coffee to Mr. Daniel. So far, he hasn't complained once. In fact, contrary to what everyone says around the office, he's not that scary.
He seems more... lonely.
He's always serious, quiet, and almost impossible to get close to. I've never seen him talk much to anyone other than his father, the company's president, and his older brother, the general director.
The workday is finally over.
Friday!
I went out drinking with my friends, and, well... I may have overdone it a little.
It's already pretty late when the taxi drops me off in front of my house. The world is spinning slightly, and my head feels a lot lighter than it should.
As I approach the front door, I notice a familiar silhouette leaning against the wall.
"Mr. Daniel...?" I ask, squinting and stumbling a little.
"Ariel?" he says, visibly surprised.
"What are you doing outside my house?" I ask, trying to focus.
"Well, I..."
"I know!" I interrupt him, breaking into a drunken grin. "You're having coffee withdrawals, so you came here to get some of mine, didn't you?"
"Are you drunk?" he asks suspiciously, noticing my condition.
"Just a little," I say, holding up my fingers to show him how little. "But listen... if you want some of my coffee, you're going to have to ask nicely."
"What do you mean, ask nicely?" he asks, looking confused.
"You have to kiss the top of my head," I tell him, pointing to the crown of my head with a silly grin.
"What?" he says, visibly shocked.
"That's what my dad does when he wants me to do something for him. He gives me a little kiss on the head and asks nicely," I explain, already leaning toward him, with barely any filter left. "Come on, kiss my head... and say, 'Make me some coffee, please.'"
For a moment, there's silence.
He stares at me, clearly caught between surprise and hesitation.
But then, to my utter astonishment, he slowly moves closer.
The world seems to slow down.
I feel his breath, and then his lips gently touch the top of my head.
"Will you make me some coffee, please?" Daniel asks, his voice low, almost a whisper.
My heart starts pounding.
He's so close...
So unexpectedly human.
I look up at him. Our eyes meet, and for a long moment, neither of us looks away.
And suddenly, the world is spinning for an entirely different reason now.
Not because of the alcohol.
But because of him.