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Here I am, riding up the elevator at 6:58 in the morning with two coffees in hand—one of which not being as strong as I needed it to be—since my new boss thinks coming an hour early will be beneficial somehow. Today is our first official day working together and it's safe to say that I was not looking forward to it; actually, being thrown in a wood chipper sounds more appealing.

When the doors to my floor opened, it was empty and dead silent. I expected it to be this way, but it was still unsettling compared to the constant telephone rings, printers, and voices that I usually hear. I wasn't used to the silence. The lights weren't on either, but the room was made visible through the sunlight from the rising sun that shines in through each wide window.

I walked towards his now office with a sigh, already suspecting he was in there since I parked next to his car, in my usual spot. I half-expected him to be an ass and take up both of the spaces, luckily he's not that petty or there's also the possibility that it never crossed his mind.

I reached the door and lightly knocked before pushing it fully open since it had already been open just a crack, "Good morning," I greeted Skywalker in a monotone as soon as my eyes landed on him. He wore a dark navy suit today with a white undershirt that had a few undone buttons, and his blazer to the suit was folded and hanging over his chair. He was standing behind his desk with his palms resting on the wood, his gaze fixated on the multiple manuscripts that were covering nearly every inch of the mahogany wood.

His eyes moved, shifting his gaze to the watch on his wrist, "You're late," He removed his hands from the desk and stood straight, his eyes now on me.

I furrowed my brows and looked down at my own watch, "It's barely 7:01, and I've been on property for well over ten minutes," I defended myself with an eye roll before stomping to the desk and aggressively setting his coffee down on one of the papers. It spilled out of the small opening, only slightly, but the very few small drops that occurred was enough to vex him.

He took a seat in his chair that rolled back as soon as he landed in it, and he placed his feet up on the desk, dirtying a few of the scripts, "When I say seven, I mean that I want my coffee on my desk by or before that time, not after." He held his hand out towards the cup, "Hand it to me."

I scoffed at his entitled behavior, "You're a big boy, get it yourself." Maybe if he said thank you in the first place or even said please, then I probably would have abided. But unwarranted behavior is always going to be met with warranted behavior.

To my surprise he didn't push or berate me further. He chuckled as he leaned forward and grabbed his drink himself, momentarily putting his feet down to do so. But he placed them right back up and got comfortable in the chair again — the very one that I bought Fred two years ago for his birthday, and this man doesn't deserve the luxury.

"Are you always this feisty in the mornings?" He asked, taking a drink and immediately making a face of disgust. He opened the cup and spit the liquid back into it like a dramatic child, "What the hell is this?" He complained, staring into the cup.

"One I'm not feisty, I am retaliating to the attitude you gave me when I first arrived and second, that is what you ordered, black coffee." I said sternly.

He furrowed his brows, glancing up from the cup, a sly smirk appearing on his face for only a second before it was gone, "I never said I wanted that," He shrugged, setting the cup down, "I like it sweet, not bitter."

For a moment I started to question my own sanity because he sounded so believable, but I know, I know that's what he claimed to like, "No you told me right out there that you liked your coffee black," I pointed to the door behind me, remembering it all as if it was yesterday.

"No I didn't, who likes black coffee?" He laughed.

My eyes grew wide, he was fucking with me, he had to be, "You do," I said in disbelief.

"No, I really don't," His smile was wide and his eyes were full of entertainment. The only reason I know for a fact is because I distinctly remember making a comment to myself about him liking his coffee as black as his soul.

By now, obviously I knew he was only trying to push my buttons, "You're unbelievable, I have work to do." I spun around to leave so I could remove myself from this situation before I threw him out of the window. We were high up, so there was zero chance for survival... tempting.

"Wait, hold on," He called after me and I reluctantly stopped to face him with an annoyed expression, "What do you have there?"

I followed his line of sight to my cup, "Chai latte?"

He tilted his head in curiosity and took his legs off of the desk to scoot closer, "Never heard of it, let me try it." He reached his hand out and I narrowed my eyes at it, "Please," He added after seeing my reluctance, "I'll go easy on you today."

Today.

I silently prayed that there was some truth to his words and walked back to the desk to hand him my cup, "Fine, but don't drink from the—" I was about to tell him to take the lid off and drink it that way so I wouldn't have a saliva to saliva contact with him, but he already drank from the small opening before I could finish speaking.

He took a drink that I believe was longer than necessary, and upon bringing the cup back down, he subtly licked the excess off his lips, "Wow this is so much better than the crap you brought me," The crap you asked for, "I'll take it." He leaned back in his chair and took another drink.

I was quiet for a moment, mainly because I though he was joking at first, but I realized I was wrong when he kept drinking it, "You can't have my coffee."

"Well I need my caffeine (y/n) and I refuse to drink that," He eyed his like it was vermin.

"That is what you asked for," I nearly raised my voice, but I did my best to hold my composure.

He shrugged, taking another long drink of what was mine with a smile I'd love to punch, "No it isn't."

Instead of arguing with this man-child, I decided to let it go—for now, but payback will be silently brewing, "Whatever, you basically drank half of it anyway." I tried to leave again. I had emails of his to answer, and more manuscripts to scan over before I send them his way for final approval so I didn't need to waste anymore time.

"Hold on," He snapped, clearly irritated by my constant attempts to get away from him. Typical narcissist behavior, he wants my attention, but can't form a single polite word, "What is all this?" He gestured to the multiple manuscripts sprawled over his desk.

"Did Fred not go over anything with you?" I questioned in a harsh tone.

He shrugged, "Yeah, but I don't really remember. So can you go ahead and give me the rundown sweetheart?"

Of course he didn't pay attention.

"Don't call me that," I sighed as I pulled out the chair across from him and his desk and took a seat, "Were they in three piles when you showed up?" I asked as I began to sort through them, placing the ones with a green stamp on the cover in one pile and the ones with a red stamp in another. The third pile were the ones that had no stamp at all.

"Yes," He answered and continued to taunt me by slowly drinking my coffee. I chose to ignore his child-like actions.

"Well that was for a reason," I said, rolling my eyes, "Green stamp means Fred read through it already and thinks it has the potential to be published, the next step would be to contact the author and pray they aren't in touch with another company already - and if they are, a bidding war will most likely start," I tapped on the pile with the red stamp using my middle finger, "Red means he didn't like it, and the ones without stamps have yet to be looked through."

He nodded along to my words, "So why the red stamp? Why not just toss the books?"

"Because Fred has OCD and a strange obsession with color-coding," I stood up and grabbed the pile of books with the red stamp, "We also recycle, so put them in this bin over here and every night it'll get picked up," I took the books and dropped them down in the bin, but paused when I saw one on top that I recognized.

I bent down and picked it up, scanning the cover with furrowed brows. I remember reading over this one myself before and thinking it was an amazing find — why would Fred not like it? I mean sure the grammar isn't the best and the vocabulary could benefit from a little expansion, but overall it was a touching and beautiful story.

I was bothered, until I came to realize something, "Hey, remember how you stole my drink and left me with no caffeine to survive this cruel hour?" I said as I spun around to face him with the manuscript still in my hand.

He eyed it, then his gaze flickered to me as he finished the last of what was in the cup, "Doesn't ring a bell."

"Don't act dumb and do me this favor for pulling a jerk move," I approached him and set the red-stamped book down, ignoring his comment, "Fred vetoed this, but I was hoping you could give it a second look." I set it down in-front of him.

Skywalker picked up the book, his eyes scanning the cover, "Why would you want me to look at it again if Fred already decided it wasn't good enough?" He asked, looking at me over the stack of papers. Heavens, if this man wasn't so insufferable, his eyes would have made me weak — the blue was too endearing for everyone's safety.

"I'm confident he made a mistake, if you just look past the grammar and awkward vocabulary, then you'll see the—"

"You think Fred," He cut me off as he raised his brows, "Wonderful Fred, the man you adore and worship so much, has made a mistake?" He fake gasped.

As I said, insufferable.

"Please give it a chance. That's all I ask. Put your dislike for me aside and trust that there's something here and I know what I'm talking about." I believe this book is a diamond, which is what we call the ones that we know will bring in a great amount of profit — if treated and marketed properly.

Skywalker sighed to himself as he flipped it open to the first page and fell silent for a few seconds, "Fine, but if I agree with Fred's choice then you will drop it, understood?

"Yes sir," I nodded.

"Call me sir again," He glanced up with a smirk spreading on his lips, "I like how it sounds."

"No," I said bluntly before spinning around and finally leaving the room to make myself a cup of cheap, office, coffee so I don't pass out at my desk.

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