Chapter 2
Vivian sat in Adrian's chair and looked Summer up and down.
“Summer Bennett, right? I hear you're ugly, but you make excellent coffee. Adrian hasn't wanted anyone else's for years.”
She smiled.
“Since you love making it so much, go make a cup for everyone on this floor. Give them a little pick-me-up. And remember, mine's iced. No sugar.”
Summer flexed her fingers once.
“Ms. Hart, I'm Mr. Cole's executive assistant. Making coffee for every employee isn't part of my job.”
Vivian looked past her, instantly wounded.
“Adrian, your assistant thinks she's too important even to make me coffee.”
He came in, picked up a document, and gave Summer a warning look.
“When I'm not here, do what Vivian says.”
As soon as he left again, Vivian's smug smile returned.
Summer turned without a word and went into the break room. Making more than a hundred cups took a full hour. She arranged them on the long table outside.
She was about to take Vivian's cup into the office when Vivian emerged in her heels, took it, and sipped.
Her expression changed. She hurled the mug at Summer.
Coffee splashed across Summer's face. The ceramic struck her temple, immediately drawing blood.
She gasped and pressed a hand to the cut, going pale.
Vivian wasn't finished. She grabbed the cups on the table and threw them one after another at Summer's head and body.
Summer fell. Bruises and cuts from broken mugs covered her. Coffee soaked her clothes and stung the open wounds.
The other employees stared in shock from a distance. No one dared intervene.
The repeated crashes brought Adrian out. He frowned at the wreckage and Summer on the floor, then caught Vivian's wrist.
“What's going on?”
Vivian clutched her stomach, looking hurt and miserable.
“Your assistant's getting back at me. I specifically told her I wanted a hot drink because I have terrible cramps, and she filled mine with ice.”
At the sight of Vivian's red-rimmed eyes, Adrian's face hardened. By the time he looked down at Summer, there was no concern left in it.
“You've worked for me for five years, Summer. You can't even get something this simple right?”
“She said iced, no sugar…”
Summer's voice shook with pain. She lifted her bloodied, coffee-streaked face and met his cold stare.
She blinked, lowered her head, and stopped defending herself.
What was the point? Vivian was the only person he cared about. The truth didn't matter to him, and neither did Summer.
Adrian faltered. Summer usually stood up for herself when she was right. She had clearly been about to say more…
Before he could think about it, Vivian groaned and bent over her stomach.
“Adrian, it hurts. Have Summer get me one of those heating patches…”
He scooped Vivian into his arms. His voice reached Summer from above.
“Ms. Bennett. You heard her.”
Summer nodded and went downstairs to the convenience store, still covered in coffee and blood.
As soon as she brought the patches back, Vivian threw them out of the office.
“Not this brand. Get another one!”
The second purchase was thrown back too.
On the third trip, Summer reached the doorway and saw Adrian holding a cup, coaxing Vivian to sip sweet herbal tea.
“I went down to the kitchen and made it myself. I've practiced for ages. Tell me if it's how you like it.”
Summer stopped.
He had begun making tea for her after one particular trip abroad. His first efforts had been awful, though he gradually improved. But however often she asked, he always made it far too sweet.
It had been Vivian's recipe all along.
The realization hurt, briefly and sharply. Then Summer steadied herself and knocked.
Adrian looked faintly uncomfortable when he saw her. He frowned at the dried blood and coffee on her face.
“Leave those here. Go take care of your injuries.”
Summer nodded and went to the changing room beside the restrooms.
She had just changed when Adrian knocked and came inside with a first-aid kit. He sat on the couch.
“Come here. Let me clean those cuts.”
“That's all right, Mr. Cole. I can do it myself.”
Her gaze was perfectly calm. She picked up the antiseptic and dabbed at a wound.
It stung, but she gave no sign of pain.
Adrian watched for several seconds. That same irritation returned.
He remembered how afraid she was of getting hurt. If she nicked herself while cooking for him, she used to come looking for sympathy.
She wasn't pretty, but her eyes were beautiful. They always lit up when she looked at him.
The first time he had tended a cut on her hand, she'd looked almost overwhelmed by the attention. Then she had cheekily asked him to blow on it and make it better.
He stood, pulled her down onto the couch, and took the cotton swab before she could refuse.
“I know this wasn't fair to you. Vivian's family has always spoiled her. Don't hold it against her, and don't try to get back at her…”
“Understood, Mr. Cole.”
The cool distance in her answer angered him. He held it back and took a damp wipe to her face.
Dark coffee and darker foundation came away together. Realizing what was happening, Summer jerked back.
Adrian stared at the smooth, fair skin on her right cheek.
“Your face—”
