Rule number one of being an intern: don't spill coffee on the CEO.
Aria repeated this sacred mantra under her breath like a prayer to every deity she could think of. She clutched a cardboard tray holding four lattes, walking as if she were balancing fine china on a tightrope.
"Easy does it," she whispered, her sneakers squeaking against the polished marble floor. "One step at a time. In and out. Nobody gets burned. Nobody dies."
The universe, of course, chose that exact moment to test her.
"Aria! Wait up!"
She nearly jumped, the tray wobbling like a seesaw. Kevin, a middle-aged marketing associate with thinning hair and too much cologne, jogged up beside her.
"Don't—move—so suddenly!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "This tray holds four very expensive lawsuits!"
Kevin blinked. "Uh… what?"
"Nothing! Just—never mind."
She refocused, willing her arms not to tremble. She imagined she was a graceful swan, gliding across the floor. Except swans didn't deliver overpriced caffeine to boardrooms full of scary executives.
By the time she reached the conference room, her nerves were frayed. She nudged the door open with her hip and stepped inside.
The room buzzed with quiet conversation. Sleek suits, expensive watches, and sharp eyes turned briefly toward her before flicking back to their colleagues. But one gaze didn't shift away.
At the head of the table, Damian Blackwood sat with perfect composure, his tailored suit hugging broad shoulders, his expression unreadable. Aria swore she could feel his presence bend the air around him.
"Smile. Just smile," she muttered under her breath.
She forced a grin and set the tray down. Success. All cups intact. Mission complete—
Then her sleeve snagged on the tray.
One cup tipped.
In horrifying slow motion, the latte slid, teetered, and plummeted toward Damian's shoes.
"No, no, no—!" Aria lunged. She caught the cup midair in a heroic dive. For half a second, she thought she'd won.
The lid popped off.
Hot foam splattered across her blouse.
The room went silent. Every executive froze, eyes wide, pens poised mid-click. Aria stood dripping coffee, hair sticking to her forehead, blouse clinging in all the wrong places.
Her survival instincts kicked in. "Ta-da!" she declared, throwing her arms out like a magician finishing a trick. "Performance art. I call this one Intern Melts Down."
A few stifled chuckles rippled through the room. Someone coughed suspiciously.
Damian's gaze, however, was cool and unblinking. Slowly, he stood. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handkerchief—immaculately folded, crisp white. He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, and extended it to her.
"Try not to drown in your own clumsiness, Miss Sullivan," he murmured, voice pitched low enough that only she heard.
Her face heated. She dabbed at her blouse, stammering, "Right. Drowning is strictly unprofessional."
For a split second, she thought his lips curved into something that almost resembled amusement. Then he turned away, and the meeting resumed as though nothing had happened.
---
By the time the meeting ended, Aria was hiding in the break room, pressing paper towels against her blouse. Lily, her best friend from accounting, appeared with a grin so wide it could split her face.
"I heard," Lily said, barely containing her laughter. "You turned a boardroom into open mic night."
"Please tell me HR doesn't fire people for slapstick."
"On the contrary," Lily said, dropping into a chair. "You're a legend. Half the staff are calling you Latte Girl already."
Aria groaned. "I wanted to blend in, not become a meme."
"Well, you've definitely got Damian Blackwood's attention now."
That made her peek through her fingers. "Attention as in, 'wow, what a capable intern,' or attention as in, 'why is this disaster haunting my company's hallways'?"
"Knowing him? Both."
Aria groaned again, smacking her forehead against the table. "Great. Can't wait for tomorrow's episode of How to Ruin Your Career in 24 Hours."
---
Later that afternoon, her supervisor dumped a stack of files into her arms. "Take these to Mr. Blackwood. He needs them reviewed immediately."
"Of course," Aria said, already envisioning herself tripping and scattering confidential documents across the entire floor. She trudged to his office, knocked softly, and prayed for mercy.
"Enter," came the deep, commanding reply.
She slipped inside. Damian was seated at his desk, pen gliding across paper with terrifying precision. The office was immaculate: dark wood, leather chairs, shelves lined with books and files, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The kind of office that screamed power.
Aria tiptoed forward and set the files on his desk. "Here you go, all safe and sound. No coffee included this time."
"Sit."
Her brain short-circuited. "Sit? Like… in the chair? Or… on the floor? Or…?"
His brow arched, and she swore her knees wobbled under the weight of his stare. "The chair will do."
She plopped into the seat opposite him, trying desperately not to fidget.
"You amuse them," he said after a pause.
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"The staff. You make them laugh." His gaze pinned her, sharp and unrelenting. "That is rare here."
"Oh." She twirled a strand of damp hair around her finger, forcing a nervous laugh. "Well, comedy is my coping mechanism. Some people do yoga. I, uh, trip over office supplies."
For the briefest moment, she thought she saw his lips twitch. Almost a smile. Almost.
"You're reckless," he said finally.
"I prefer the term 'endearingly chaotic.'"
"Endearing." He tasted the word, as though testing it. His eyes lingered on her, unreadable, but something about the way he said it sent her heart into overdrive.
Before she could reply, his phone buzzed. He answered with clipped efficiency, dismissing her with a glance.
Aria stood quickly, gathering what was left of her dignity. As she slipped out, she couldn't stop replaying that one word in her head.
Endearing.
---
That night, she texted Lily from her tiny apartment.
Aria: Today's survival rating: 5/10. Coffee incident. Possible nickname: Latte Girl.
Lily: omg 😂😂😂 did the hot boss kill you??
Aria: worse. he called me… "endearing."
Lily: girl. that's not worse. that's flirting.
Aria: no. that's intimidation disguised as flirting. big difference.
But even as she typed it, her stomach fluttered. Because deep down, she wasn't sure which it really was.