The Unforgettable Smile
The rain had stopped by morning, but the sky still carried the heavy gray of a restless night. Elena stood behind the café counter, wiping down the glass display where fresh pastries waited for customers. The soft hum of conversation filled the air as regulars sipped their coffee, tapping away at laptops or reading newspapers.
Her mind wasn't on the pastries. It wasn't on the customers either.
It was on him.
Adrian.
She didn't even know his last name, yet his face had been burned into her thoughts all night. Those gray eyes—calm yet piercing—had a way of making her feel like he could see past every smile she wore, straight into the truth she kept hidden. And the way he'd smiled at her after she'd ruined his expensive suit… most men would've snapped. He had just laughed.
She shook her head, scolding herself. He was just a customer. A very handsome, intriguing customer, but nothing more. People like him didn't linger in the lives of people like her.
The bell above the door chimed.
She looked up—and nearly dropped the tray she was holding.
Adrian was standing there.
This time, the suit was charcoal gray, tailored perfectly to his lean frame, and his hair had been combed back with effortless precision. He scanned the café for a moment, but the second his eyes found hers, the faintest smirk curved his lips.
"You're back," she blurted before she could stop herself.
"Is that surprise I hear in your voice, Elena?" he asked, stepping toward the counter.
"A little," she admitted, unable to hold back a shy smile. "Most customers who get coffee spilled on them don't come back the next day."
"I told you yesterday—no permanent damage," he said casually. "Besides, I was curious if your coffee is always that good or if it was a one-time miracle."
She raised an eyebrow. "And?"
He leaned slightly against the counter, close enough that she could smell the subtle mix of his cologne—warm cedar with a hint of spice. "I guess I'll have to find out."
Her cheeks warmed. "The usual?"
"Yes. And…" His gaze flickered to the pastry display. "One of those." He pointed to a cinnamon roll.
As she prepared his order, she felt his eyes on her. It wasn't an uncomfortable stare—it was observant, as if he were memorizing the way she moved.
When she set his coffee and pastry on the counter, his fingers brushed hers again. The same spark from yesterday shot through her.
"So, Elena," he began, picking up his cup. "Do you always work here?"
"Yes. Full-time." She hesitated, then added, "It's not my dream job, but it pays the bills while I work on something else."
His interest piqued. "Something else?"
"I'm saving to open my own bakery someday. A little place where people can feel at home." She shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious for sharing so much.
"That's… admirable," he said, his voice low but sincere. "Not many people your age are willing to build something from the ground up."
She smiled faintly. "What about you? What do you do?"
His lips quirked. "I own a few hotels."
A few? She blinked. That was… unexpected.
"Sounds like a big job," she said lightly.
"It has its moments. But it's not always as glamorous as people think." He took a sip of his coffee, then leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Some days, I wish I could trade boardrooms for a small café like this."
She chuckled. "I think you'd get bored after a week."
"Maybe." His smile softened. "But I wouldn't mind seeing your face every morning."
Her breath caught. The words weren't delivered with the cocky charm of someone trying to impress—they were spoken as if he meant them.
Before she could reply, a customer called her name from the other end of the counter. She excused herself, but even while taking another order, she could feel Adrian's presence like a quiet hum in the background.
When she returned, his coffee was half gone, and he was watching the rain start up again outside the window.
"I should go," he said, standing. "But I'll see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" she asked, startled.
He tilted his head slightly. "Unless you don't want me to."
She swallowed, trying not to smile too widely. "I didn't say that."
His smirk deepened. "Good."
As he walked out, she noticed he left a folded bill under his cup—far more than the cost of his order. She wanted to run after him, to tell him it was too much, but something told her he'd only say it was for the suit. Or maybe… for something else entirely.
She watched him disappear into the rain again, her heart pounding just like yesterday.
This was dangerous. She knew it. And yet, she couldn't wait for tomorrow.