𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ✓ (𝟷𝟾+)

The Faceoff

Clearing my throat, I declared my presence.

He turned and said, "Hi, sugar."

"Huh.. what did you call me?"

His lips made way to sprout a smile, still capable of arresting my heartbeats. "I asked, how much sugar?"

Beating myself up figuratively, I answered before sliding into my usual place. Roger walked back and placed his concoction for me to drink. Picking the cup, I sniffed at the rim. Warm rich coffee aroma tickled my senses. The room echoed with his laughter as he saw me inspecting his drink.

Defending my act, I grinned. "One can't be too careful.. can they?"

His laughing act made for a straighter nod of agreement. I sipped his first creation. I assumed Roger was new to the whole coffee making business. To my surprise, the beverage was tasty. It wasn't too hard or bitter and neither was it sugary. It was a perfect combination of the hot richness of the coffee beans, packed with something extra he incorporated. I couldn't tell what, but it hinted at vanilla. The warmth and the tasteful bitterness engulfed my taste buds to a state of aromatic, warm sense of calmness.

What surprised me more was that he knew how to make coffee. All those coffee runs that I made while he sat in his office with a perfect barista machine by his side.

"You know how to make this well and yet.." I protested but he was intuitive to understand, where I was going with it. Pulling himself off the couch, he moved to pull the stacks of papers before placing a set of it towards me.

"Knowing how to make coffee doesn't mean that I have to make one for myself everyday."

I didn't know if it was his mere words or the sheer rage in me from events, not long back, but I didn't reciprocate to his statement. Instead, I stared hard at the sheets of paper, hoping if I could burn them all to ashes.

Not that it would solve my problem in any way. I was bubbling my blood on the inside, seething at Roger and his nonchalant attitude. Hurt turned into a molted form of anger and boiled up, every time I saw of, thought of him.

We went through the entire document, clause after clause. I haggled wherever I could and so did he. It was not Arin and Roger on two sides of a table. It was an Oswald and a Murphy. Both were good, strong in law and both knew how to encash their gain. Any part of me which felt anything for him was shoved behind the vaulted doors of my heart. The bitch who negotiated the deal wasn't the googly eyed girl but a headstrong woman. The woman, who felt nothing, needed nothing and craved for nothing. She was a ruthless being.

By the end of it, the clock ticked quarter past eight and the rumbling in my stomach couldn't be suppressed with beverages. Dialing up delivery, I was ready with my usual orders when Roger pulled the phone from my hand and ended the call.

"Hey, I have to place my order before they take last call.."

His face contoured for a moment before a smirk came on display. "And when would that be? 3 in the morning?"

His class act was riling me up since his arrival and the time he tossed away my ice cream away. Nobody should mess with an ice cream order. Roger was no exception.

Which school did he attend to not know that?

"We will go out. My treat." His words hung in the air and set my mouth ajar. I stared at him and he per usual kept his calm, even smiling to piss me further. My world went into an upheaval since he conveyed we were nothing more than mere contractual entities. Yet, he acted as if nothing changed. "I would love to take you out, you know."

Not that I didn't understand him at the first instance, his re-emphasized sentence made me want to hurl a shoe at him. I remembered reading somewhere, there was a thin line difference between love and hate and the crossover wasn't always noticeable. Well, it seemed like I may have crossed all the way over to the enemy front.