Chapter 4 #2
“My hot chocolate tastes like ass,” I say bluntly.
“Oh, no!” Her voice is dripping with fake concern. “That’s terrible. Maybe you’re just having an off day.”
Something in her tone makes my eyes narrow. The way she’s standing, the slight tilt of her head, the barely suppressed smile. It all screams guilt.
“Eve. Did you do something to my hot chocolate?”
“Me?” She presses a hand to her chest, eyes wide with mock innocence. “I would never. I don’t even know how you make it.”
“Bullshit.” I step closer, and she doesn’t back down. Instead, she tilts her chin up defiantly. “What did you do?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But there’s a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth that gives her away completely.
I take another step, effectively boxing her in between the counter and my body. She has to tilt her head back to look at me, and I see the challenge burning in her dark eyes. “You’re lying,” I say quietly, my voice low enough that only she can hear. “And you’re enjoying it.”
“Prove it.” The words are barely a whisper, but they hit me like a physical blow. She’s close enough that I can smell her perfume. I see her pupils dilate slightly.
“You think you’re so clever,” I murmur, bracing one hand against the counter beside her hip. “But I’m going to figure out what you did.”
“Good luck with that.” She doesn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. If anything, she looks like she’s enjoying herself. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I have to fight to keep my eyes on her face.
She slips past me, her body brushing against mine for just a second, and I have to grip the counter to keep from following her.
As she reaches the doorway, I hear her murmur under her breath, “Payback feels like a bitch, doesn’t it?
” I watch her walk away, hips swaying in that way that makes my blood pressure spike.
I spend the next ten minutes investigating the hot chocolate situation like I’m solving a murder case. The cocoa powder looks normal. The sugar seems fine. But when I dip my finger into the cocoa powder and taste it directly, I nearly spit it out.
“Salt,” I mutter, staring at the container. “She mixed salt into my cocoa powder.”
That clever, vindictive little—
This isn’t just any hot chocolate mix. This is premium Swiss cocoa that costs more per ounce than most people spend on lunch. And it was my last canister.
Eve Lopez just crossed a line.
I dump the ruined drink and head back to my desk, mind already working on my revenge. She wants to play games? Fine. But she’s about to learn I don’t play fair.
By the time I reach my desk, I already have a plan forming. Eve’s sitting there looking perfectly innocent, typing away like she didn’t just commit a felony against imported chocolate.
“Everything okay?” she asks without looking up. “You look a little... bitter.”
“Hilarious.” I settle into my chair, pulling out my phone. “Just making some calls.”
Her fingers pause over the keyboard for a fraction of a second. Good. Let her wonder.
The first call is to my dry cleaner about my suit from yesterday. The second is to confirm a client meeting for next week. The third is about ordering replacement cocoa powder from my usual supplier. Completely mundane calls, but I make sure to keep my voice low and speak in vague terms.
“Yeah, I need that handled by Friday... No, the usual method won’t work this time... Make sure it’s exactly what we discussed.”
Eve’s trying to act like she’s not listening, but I catch her shooting glances my way every few minutes. Her typing has slowed considerably, and she keeps tilting her head slightly in my direction.
“That was expensive cocoa,” I mention casually as I hang up from my last call.
“Was it?” Her voice is perfectly neutral, but I see the slight tightening around her eyes.
“Imported from Switzerland. Sixty dollars for a small tin.”
Now she looks up, and I catch a flicker of guilt before she masks it. “That’s... ridiculously overpriced for chocolate powder.”
“It’s not just chocolate powder. It’s a premium blend with specific flavor notes.” I lean back in my chair, watching her carefully. “The kind of thing you can’t just replace.”
“Maybe you should stick to the break room coffee like the rest of us peasants.”
“Maybe you should stick to pranks that don’t cost me sixty bucks.”
We stare at each other across our desks, the tension crackling between us like live wire.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says finally, but there’s less conviction in her voice now.
“Right.” I turn back to my computer. “Well, I’m sure whoever messed with my cocoa will enjoy the surprise I have planned for them.”
That gets her attention. “What surprise?”
“Oh, you’ll see. Eventually.”
I don’t actually have a surprise planned yet, but watching her squirm is almost worth the loss of my premium cocoa. Almost.
* * *
Around noon, Joshua stretches dramatically. “I’m starving, but I can’t leave. Veronica’s been breathing down my neck all morning about these social media metrics.”
“I need to grab lunch anyway,” Eve says, gathering her purse. “I’ll pick up sandwiches from Danny’s for everyone. What do you want?”
“Turkey club,” Steven calls out without looking up from his screen.
“Pastrami on rye,” Flora adds. “With extra pickles.”
“And I’ll have the Italian combo,” Joshua says. “Plus one of those iced coffees. You know, the ones with extra sugar that you hate?”
“Make that two iced coffees,” Steven chimes in. “Large.”
“And I’ll take a green tea,” Flora adds. “Hot. With honey.”
Eve’s pulling on her coat when I stand up. “I’ll come with you.”
She pauses, one arm in her sleeve. “Why?”
“Because you’re about to carry five sandwiches and four drinks by yourself. And my mother raised me to be a gentleman. Even to the undeserving.”
She glowers at me. “Gentleman, my ass. I can manage—”
“Sure you can. Just like you can reach the top shelf in the supply closet without help.” I grab my coat, smirking at the way she bristles. “Face it, Lopez. You need an extra pair of hands.”
“I don’t need anything from you,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Great. So when you inevitably drop everything halfway back, I guess you won’t expect me to help clean up the mess.”
Steven and Flora exchange glances while Joshua whistles.
“Just let him help, Eve,” Flora nudges. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Famous last words,” Eve mutters, but she doesn’t protest further.
The walk to Danny’s starts in hostile silence. Eve walks fast, as if eager to put distance between us. Given how tiny she is, I have no problem keeping up. But it’s funny to see her pick up speed, like that’s going to make a difference.
“You know,” I say after half a block, “most people would say ‘thank you’ when someone offers to help.”
“Most people don’t have ulterior motives.”
“What ulterior motive could I possibly have for carrying coffee?”
She stops and turns to face me, dark eyes flashing suspiciously. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe I just wanted to watch you struggle with a dozen drinks,” I say with a lazy grin. “Entertainment value.”
“There it is.” She starts walking again, faster this time. “You’re an ass.”
“And you’re welcome for the help, Princess.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“What? Princess? Why? It suits you. All that royal attitude, expecting everyone to bow down to your superiority.”
She whirls around so fast I nearly walk into her. “My superiority? You’re the one who thinks the sun rises and sets on your perfect ass!”
“At least I don’t walk around with a stick permanently lodged up mine.”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from—”
A car honks as it passes, and we realize we’ve stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, facing off like we’re about to throw punches. The space between us hums with conflict and an undercurrent I’m trying to ignore.
“This is ridiculous,” Eve growls, crossing the sidewalk now.
“Agreed.” I trail after her. “You’re being ridiculous.”
She makes a sound of pure frustration and stalks toward Danny’s. I follow, enjoying the way her hips sway when she’s pissed off.
At Danny’s, Eve orders while I lean against the counter, watching her interact with the staff. When the kid behind the register tries to flirt, offering her his number with a nervous smile, I see my opportunity.
“Dude, I wouldn’t bother,” I say before Eve can respond.
Both Eve and the kid turn to stare at me. Eve’s expression could freeze hell.
“Excuse me?” she says, her voice dangerously quiet.
“Trust me, man. You don’t want to date her.” I shake my head sympathetically at the kid. “She’s like a beautiful cactus. Nice to look at, but touch her and you’ll be picking out spines for weeks.”
The kid looks confused. Eve looks homicidal.
“What did you just say?” Her voice drops to a whisper, somehow sounding more threatening than shouting.
“I’m doing him a favor,” I say innocently. “Saving him from certain emotional destruction. You should thank me.”
“Thank you?” Her eyes are practically shooting sparks. “THANK YOU?”
“You’re welcome. Though really, I should be thanking you. The entertainment value alone—”
“You arrogant, condescending piece of—”
“Order for Eve!” the counter guy calls out hastily, clearly wanting to escape whatever’s about to happen. Eve grabs the drink carrier while I take the bags, grinning at the fury radiating off her in waves.
“You’re enjoying this,” she accuses as we leave the shop.
“Immensely.”
“Why? What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me. I just like watching you get all fired up. Your nostrils flare when you’re angry. It’s adorable.”
“Adorable??” She freezes mid-step, forcing me to stumble to a halt behind her. “Did you just call me adorable?”
“Like a rabid squirrel.”
For a second, I think she might actually throw the drinks at me. The way she’s gripping the carrier, her knuckles white with restraint, makes me want to smile. Pissing Eve Lopez off is slowly becoming one of my favorite hobbies.
“You are the most infuriating human being I have ever met,” she hisses.
“Right back at you, Princess.”
She makes that frustrated sound again and starts walking, muttering what sounds like creative threats in Spanish under her breath.
We’re walking back, loaded down with food and drinks, when I notice the woman.
She’s standing across the street from our building, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
Mid-thirties, blonde hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in days, wearing jeans and a coat that’s too thin for the weather.
But it’s the wild look in her eyes and the way she’s staring directly at Eve that sets off alarm bells.
I keep walking, but my attention is split between Eve’s continued muttering and the woman who’s now crossing the street with jerky, determined movements.
She’s pulling something from her purse—a bottle of some kind.
Eve’s completely oblivious, still ranting about my ‘prehistoric attitudes toward women’ when the woman breaks into a run.
“You!” she screams. “You ruined everything!” The bottle has some red liquid in it, and it’s already in the air before Eve even turns around. Without thinking, I drop the bags and throw myself between them, the back of my coat taking the brunt of liquid explosion as I pull Eve against my chest.
“What the hell—” Eve starts, but then the woman is on us, screaming like a banshee.
“He’s mine! Joshua is mine!” The woman lunges at Eve with her nails extended like claws. “You made him choose you over me!”
“Melissa?” Eve recognizes her immediately, blood streaming from the scratches on her neck where Melissa’s nails connected. “You crazy bitch!”
I grab Melissa’s wrists before she can strike again. “That’s enough!”
“Get out of the way, Caleb!” Eve snaps, wiping blood from a deep scratch across her cheek that’s already swelling. “I can handle this!”
“Like hell! Look at your face!”
“He loves me!” Melissa shrieks, struggling against my grip. “We were perfect together until you interfered!”
“You’re completely delusional!” Eve shouts back, more blood trickling from a cut near her temple.
“Shut up!” Melissa breaks free with surprising strength and launches herself at Eve again.
This time Eve’s ready. She sidesteps Melissa’s wild swing and shoves her hard, sending her stumbling forward. I pin the woman down before she can cause more damage.
“Get off me!” Melissa screams. “You can’t keep us apart! We belong together!”
That’s when Joshua comes running out of the building, probably drawn by the screaming.
“What the hell is going on—Oh, shit.” His face goes white when he sees the woman. “Melissa?”
“Joshua!” Melissa immediately turns her fury on him, tears streaming down her face. “Tell her! Tell her we belong together!”
“Jesus Christ, Melissa! What did you do?” Joshua looks horrified, taking in Eve’s bloody face. “What did you do?!
“I’m so sorry, Eve,” he says, his voice shaking. “I’m so fucking sorry. This is all my fault.”
Melissa lunges at Eve again with renewed fury. “He’s mine!”
“She’s just my friend!” Joshua shouts, his voice cracking with desperation and anger. “Eve is just a friend! Leave her alone!”
But Melissa’s beyond reason. She spots a piece of broken glass from the paint bottle on the ground and goes for it.
“Eve!” I shout, but she’s already moving, kicking the glass away.
Melissa comes up empty-handed but still swinging. Her nails catch Eve across the other cheek, adding fresh scratches to the damage.
“That’s it!” I’ve had enough. I grab Melissa and lift her off the ground, pinning her arms to her sides. “You’re done.” The sound of sirens grows louder, and police cars come screeching around the corner.
“Noo!” Melissa’s scream is pure anguish. “You don’t understand! I love him!”
As the police cars pull up, Melissa suddenly goes limp in my arms, the fight draining out of her as she realizes it’s over.
“Caleb!” Joshua yells over the sirens, looking at Eve who’s swaying slightly, blood dripping from multiple cuts on her face. “Get her inside! Now!”
I don’t need to be told twice. I wrap my arm around Eve’s waist as she stumbles, her adrenaline finally wearing off. “Come on, Princess,” I say quietly. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
For once, she doesn’t argue.