The first mistake of Rina's day was adding two pumps of hazelnut instead of one.
The second was dropping an entire tray of croissants when the espresso machine hissed at her like a demon from hell.
But the third mistake—the one that would haunt her forever—was walking into the executive elevator.
She realized the moment the doors hissed shut behind her. The air was colder in here, like it had personally signed an NDA. The walls weren't even buttons—just sleek black panels with sensor locks.
Her heart thudded. She turned slowly.
And there she was.
Kira Yoon.
CEO of Syntek Corp. Cold-blooded empress of the tech world. Green eyes sharp as lasers. Suit sharp enough to cut steel. The woman Rina had only seen on the giant screen above the café once, giving a speech no one dared breathe during.
She was standing there, motionless, like a statue carved from ice and money.
Rina choked on her own voice.
"O-oh—sorry! I didn't mean to—this elevator's for—of course it is—I'm just a barista, haha, I'll get off right—"
"There are no stops between this floor and mine," Kira said coolly. Her voice wasn't loud, but it silenced everything.
"Oh." Rina swallowed. "Well... I guess I'll just... vibe."
Kira blinked once.
The silence between them was so loud, Rina thought she could hear her heartbeat echo off the titanium walls.
Then Kira's eyes dropped to the tray in her hands.
"You have my coffee."
Rina looked down.
Oh no.
It was her usual order: one flat white with zero sugar and a little foam heart—because, well, she always made foam hearts. Even for terrifying executives.
"Oh! Yeah. I mean—it's yours. Not like yours yours, but—you ordered it. Not directly. But... someone in a suit did. So, I assumed. Unless you don't drink flat whites. Which would be weird. Not weird! Just—never mind."
She held it out with both hands, like an offering to an ancient deity.
Kira stepped forward. Took it.
And paused.
She looked at the heart drawn in foam.
Then back at Rina.
"You did this."
"Uh—yes. I like to... add some love. Not that you need love. Or do you? I mean, who doesn't, right? Haha..."
Rina prayed for death. Or a power outage.
Instead, Kira spoke.
"Your hands are shaking."
"Oh. Yeah. That's just... caffeine. And fear. But mostly caffeine."
For the faintest moment—maybe a glitch in the universe—Kira's lips quirked. Not a smile. But close.
Then the elevator pinged.
She stepped out, coffee in hand. Before the doors closed, she turned back.
"Next time," she said, her voice low, "bring it to my office."
And then she was gone.
Rina stood there alone, heart hammering, tray slightly tilted.
"...What the hell just happened?" she whispered.