Meghan, having been thoroughly consoled by Tobi, let the heavy burden of her worries regarding the competition accusation slide away. The next step, she knew, was the monumental task of convincing her father of the baseless nature of her dismissal.
She continued her routine, efficiently serving coffee. The line of customers steadily decreased, but the relative calm was suddenly shattered by a sharp, piercing shriek. Meghan glanced around, trying to comprehend the source of the commotion, but the surging crowd made it impossible to see or make sense of the noise.
Just then, Tobi, ever the drama magnet, burst back through the door, his school bag still slung over his shoulder.
"What's going on? Why are you back so soon?" Meghan asked, wiping down the counter.
Tobi giggled, dropping his school bag onto the countertop with a loud thud. "The Z3 are here!" he reported, his face alight with excitement.
Meghan was utterly unmoved. "The Z-who? Well, I've never heard of them, and frankly, I'm unimpressed and not interested."
Tobi rolled his eyes dramatically, then playfully slapped her arm.
"Ouch!" she cried, rubbing the sting. "What is wrong with you?"
"What is wrong with you?! Do you know who the Z3 are? These guys are the old money of the world! The most eligible bachelors!" he declared, emphasizing each word with an animated gesture.
Meghan simply shrugged, rolling her eyes. Tobi had to fight the urge to stomp his foot. "And clearly, Tobi, how does that help me?"
"You've got to be kidding me! They're Uriel Oman Jefferson Jr., Hugo Arnold, and Zack Oswald—the Zealous Boyz, hello!" He giggled, but Meghan gave him the classic side-eye, a clear sign of disinterest.
"Uriel is the son of the world's most richest man, Jeffery Oman Jefferson! He's the third and last child, a trillionaire baby, and he is ridiculously masculine. Plus, he's the head of the Z3. The best part? He started his own company but is still set to inherit both his mother's and father's global empires!" Tobi beamed.
Meghan scoffed, meticulously aligning the serving cups. "Oh, really? Sounds like he's got his life too easy. I bet he wouldn't hesitate to bully the poor." She kept listening to Tobi's non-stop yapping.
"Hugo Arnold, on the other hand, is the son of Mr. Michael and Mrs. Yasmin Arnold—they're both world-class, SSS-ranking supermodels! They're billionaires, of course. He's like the seventh generation of supermodels and the founder of RHS Salon. You don't even need an appointment to get a haircut there, that's how exclusive it is."
"I don't know about that," Meghan said, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. "I got a haircut last week at RHS, and there was no appointment needed."
Tobi stared at her, unblinking, for a moment. "Nope, I'm not lying. I got there, and honestly, their staff have terrible manners."
Tobi waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway! Zack Oswald is the most enigmatic of the three. He's charming and a known long-time flirt. His parents own a massive fashion media house and a leading tech company. Dude owns shares in the UK and Turkish oil companies, and his family are co-owners of GG Shareholding Company—one of the biggest shipping companies! But there's a saying his father hails from a direct line of the Oswald Mafia but turned the family into a business line."
"Oh, wow. Criminal justification," Meghan remarked flatly.
"And I'm telling you, shhh! The last guy who tried to oppose him disappeared without a trace. So did the journalists who tried to disrespect their privacy."
Meghan finished setting all the cups, pushing them aside before fixing her attention solely on Tobi. "I've never heard of them, nor have I seen them. So, do me a favor and go to class or Aunt Kelly's going to flatten your skin."
"Killjoy!" Tobi exclaimed, dramatically sticking his tongue out at her before finally grabbing his bag.
Meanwhile, among the dwindling crowd, Uriel was growing visibly impatient. After a grueling motorcycle race, all he wanted was to find a quiet place to sit down and check his phone. Since Hugo and Zack had insisted on coming here, however, he had no choice but to tag along.
The initial commotion had died down, but the stares and whispers never ceased. Uriel was clearly displeased with the environment and the behavior of the patrons. This was decidedly not his style, and he wouldn't stop glaring at the place as if his mere gaze could tear it down.
He stood stiffly, observing the chair as if it were filthy. Hugo and Zack had already settled in, and Hugo tossed him a cloth.
"Dude, what are we doing here?" Uriel finally gritted out. "Of all the places in London, this is where you decided to eat?"
Hugo gave Zack a knowing look before bursting into a fit of laughter.
"Yeah, dude, we've been eating here—but through orders," Zack said easily. "This is the closest spot in lower London for a good snack, and it's probably the cleanest. Don't be a snob." Uriel shot him a menacing side-eye.
"I'm a regular customer, and as far as I know, they serve the best burger and coffee," Hugo remarked, standing up from his seat. "So, take it from me. They're good. What can I get you guys?"
"I'll have the 3-pack french fries, two cheeseburgers, and an almond milk tea," Zack replied, looking expectantly at Uriel. "What are you having?"
Uriel gave him a chilling stink eye that silently screamed, Don't look at me. "I am not dining here, that's for sure. I only eat food made—"
His stomach let out a loud, embarrassing growl.
Hugo roared with laughter, utterly unable to control himself. Zack tried to stifle his own laughter but failed miserably. "You were saying?" Zack asked, raising a mocking brow.
Uriel growled, frustrated, as he begrudgingly snatched the menu. "Fine. I'll have two cheeseburgers and a black coffee—no milk, and a single cube of sugar."
"Like, eww, you're such an old man! Who drinks black coffee with a cube of sugar?" Hugo asked, scrunching up his nose.
"Apparently, Uriel does," Zack remarked, earning a sharp punch on the shoulder from Uriel beneath the table.
Hugo placed the order, and Meghan, moving with practiced efficiency, transcribed the details onto a narrow slip of paper, then affixed it with a decisive snap to the rolling order board hanging just behind the counter.
He leaned in, his voice dropping slightly, laced with an easy charm. "Stunning cut," he said, gesturing to her low-cut hairstyle. "Really suits you." She didn't pause in her work, her hands already reaching for the first cup. "Thank you," she replied, the tone curt and completely devoid of interest.
He pressed on. " I'm Hugo Arnold and your name is?" As she began pulling the espresso shot, the rich, hot smell of coffee momentarily masked her voice. "It's Meghan."
Hugo was instantly intrigued, his interest piqued by her palpable indifference. His most effortless, practiced charm—a weapon that rarely failed—seemed to glance off her like water off stone. He upped the ante, asking for her number. "I'm genuinely interested," he insisted, his honey-brown eyes locked on hers.
The metallic screech of a chair being dragged back wasn't half as loud as the sound Meghan made. She slammed the cup she was holding—an empty ceramic mug, not the flimsy paper kind—onto the stainless-steel counter. The ring was sharp, echoing through the usually loud café. She met his gaze, her grey eyes locking with his in a long, silent stand-off that instantly silenced the usual murmur of the queue behind him.
Hugo, though momentarily startled, only smiled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Fiery temper, are we?" he commented, leaning in just slightly. "Feisty. I like that attitude in a girl."
A muscle twitched near Meghan's jaw. She smirked, a cold, humorless movement of her lips. "Then you should know that this attitude is warning you to back off. Don't ask for my contact information. I want nothing to do with a guy like you."
A silent, communal breath of surprise went through the waiting customers. Hugo chuckled, entirely unfazed. He reached for his share of the food—a large, warm bag. Before he could gather the rest of the trays, a starstruck girl in line instantly stepped up to help him carry the load, abandoning her place without a second thought. As he walked toward the exit, he paused to turn and wave at Meghan.
"We're going to see each other more often, Meghan!" he called out playfully, his voice carrying easily over the background noise.
When he was gone, Meghan slowly wrapped her hand around the clean, spare paper cup meant for the next order. Her knuckles tightened, the flimsy paper crinkling and then shredding silently under the pressure. Her anger, momentarily controlled, manifested only in the quiet destruction of the cup. "An airhead," she murmured, low enough that only she could hear the caustic edge. "Don't let me run into a total airhead like him again."
She was completely alone today, a solitary figure handling the overwhelming midday rush. Tanya had a program and wouldn't be in until 8 PM. Tobi had offered help earlier, but she'd assured him she could handle it. Hugo's utterly irritating confidence, however, had completely poisoned her mood.
Meanwhile, back at the meeting spot, Uriel was growing visibly impatient. He glanced at his watch. "Thirty minutes, Zack. What could possibly be keeping Hugo for so long?"
Zack merely leaned back, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Patience, Uriel. Patience."
Zack leaned in, lowering his voice so only they could hear. "Have you located the person who slapped you last week? Or are you just going to let it slide?"
Uriel nearly flinched, remembering the public mockery he would face if word got out he was slapped by a nobody.
"I still haven't gotten feedback from my bodyguard yet," Uriel said, his voice tight. "But the information is due later."
Zack smiled coldly. "Either your bodyguard is slow, or he's deliberately delaying the punishment. Maybe he's scared it's a serial killer."
Uriel kicked Zack square on the foot under the table. Zack cried out in pain. Patrons seated nearby stared, but instantly turned their heads away upon meeting Uriel's intimidating eyes.
Hugo finally arrived with the two girls who had helped him carry the trays—Zack's and his own—while he personally held Uriel's food. He knew Uriel hated his food being held by anyone he didn't trust.
Uriel glared. "Were you planning on starving me? Flirting with the waitress for thirty minutes?"
Hugo scoffed. "F-ck you," he retorted instantly.
Zack burst out laughing.
"I couldn't leave the waitress all alone," Hugo defended himself. "She was the only one taking everyone's order, so I had to help get ours myself."
They dug into their food. Uriel hadn't realized he'd finished his own portion and had reached into Zack's tray until Zack's hand sharply hit his.
"F-ck off, Uriel, and leave my food alone or I'll cut your hand off," Zack said in a playfully offended manner.
Uriel took a deep breath, then complimented the coffee and the snack. "They were delicious. I'd love to have more," he said, but instantly regretted the words the moment they left his mouth.
Zack's eyebrow shot up. "I thought you only ate food cooked by Michelin chefs or professional Parisian chefs at home?"
Hugo quickly smacked Zack on the back. "Shut up and stop teasing Uriel. It's his first time eating outside."
Hugo, a light eater, slid one of his cheeseburgers toward Uriel, who devoured it slowly, conscious of the public eye despite wanting to gobble it in one go.
"Do you guys believe in love at first sight?" Hugo asked, his voice sounding dreamy.
Uriel rolled his eyes, enjoying the last bite of the burger. Zack couldn't stop laughing.
"I'm not joking!" Hugo insisted. "I think I'm in love. I just met the girl of my dream."
"That's your pick-up line until you get under their skirt and realize they're not the one for you," Uriel commented dismissively.
Zack took a sip of his coffee. "Love at first sight doesn't exist. For me, it's just f-ck and dump, so no, I don't believe in it."
Uriel looked at Hugo. "So there's a girl, and you said you fell in love at first sight, and now she doesn't even want to look at you for a second?"
Zack fell silent, patting Hugo on the back. "It's an unrequited love, buddy. Besides, if she doesn't agree, there are plenty of fish in the sea."
"I only want this fish," Hugo replied miserably.
"Your loss," Uriel commented dryly. "I think you need a new brain."
Suddenly, Uriel's phone chimed. He opened it, ignoring the ongoing conversation. Unlocking the screen, he saw the full file on the person who had slapped him.
He shot up, startling his friends.
"What's wrong?" they asked in unison.
"I've seen the person who slapped me," Uriel announced, his voice low and dangerous. "And you won't believe it. It's a girl named Meghan Smith."
Hugo recognized the name Meghan but didn't make the connection immediately, reaching for the phone.
"Let me see."
He stared at the picture of Meghan in utter shock. "Are you sure this is the person, Uriel?" he asked.
Uriel grew immediately irritated. "Are you doubting me, or do you actually know the person? Because she works here."
Hugo quickly denied everything. "No! I don't know the person, nor am I doubting you!"
Uriel stood up, heading toward the counter with lethal intent. Unfortunately for Meghan, and fortunately for Uriel, Meghan was happy to see her colleague, Bryan, step in for his shift. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she spun around, ready to leave, and walked straight into Uriel.
His phone slipped from his hand. He cursed violently, snatching it up.
"F-ck you! Can't you f-cking see!" he growled.
Meghan held her throbbing forehead, which had co
llided hard with his. "You're the one who doesn't know how to walk!" she shot back, looking up.
As their eyes locked, they both recoiled, uttering in unison: "You?!"