Isabella

"Fine." It's the second time today the guys from the legal department request coffee from across the street. Meanwhile they have multiple espresso makers but apparently they're in the middle of the most important paperwork and unable to step out of the conference room. Pathetic. Sue is too busy doing whatever the fuck she does nowadays, so it's me, again, who's got to run down and get the high and mighty's coffee order.

I'm too wired, too down to my last nerve and swoop around the corner angrily and into a wall, landing on my ass, burning hot coffee seeping through my new fucking trousers.

"Ah, fuck!"

It takes me a few seconds to realize the wall is cursing, too.

I clean off my palms on my already ruined, white slacks, my eyes trailing up black, leather, monogrammed sneakers and skinny dress pants, up muscular thighs and that's where I stop, realizing my fuck-up.

I'm staring at my boss. At the big boss, after I dunked hot coffee all over his suit and diabolically expensive sneakers. He's known for those, since casual-esque dress shoes are what old men wear, apparently.

He's not looking at me, he's pinching some buttons on his shirt, unsticking the fabric from his skin. God, I'm gonna get fired.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Cullen." I'm baffled that I can even speak in my state of embarrassment.

"You were stressed, and rushing around. It's okay." He looks tired, dark circles under his impressively green eyes. But they still look kind around the edges as he gives me a lopsided smile.

Damn, he really is good-looking.

"Still…how can I fix this?"

"You don't have to do anything, really. My dry-cleaner will handle this, no worries." It's odd that he's so chill. I wasn't expecting this.

"Please, send me the bill, Mr. Cullen. It's the least I can do." I know I'm being a pushover. I know it's not my fault that we literally bumped into each other. But I'm raised well, which means that I'm overly apologetic. To a fault.

"Nonsense. I'm a gentleman, in case you didn't know that. Besides, I am heading home, so there's no need to make a big deal out of this." He smiles again, a billion-dollar smile. It's shaking me to my core.

"Well, okay, thanks, sir."

"You're welcome, Isabella."

I stand there, feeling stupid for the fact that the man who's calling the shots here now, knows my name.

"I look forward to working together, if you'd be in at nine tomorrow, that would be great. We should start easy, you've been working for two for far too long anyway from what I've heard. Good night, Miss Swan."

I blink several times, watching him walk away, long strides until he exits the glass doors, and enters a black car.

Holy shit.

I got the job.

And the big boss beat the email I got sent by HR two hours later.