Page 60 of Safe Word

She was in a good mood this morning, despite the bags under her eyes. ‘I’m fixing the coffee maker.’

I blinked. ‘You’re fixing the…’ The words evaporated as I stared at her wielding that screwdriver. ‘Have you ever fixed a coffee maker before?’ No, that wasn’t what I’d meant to say, but I couldn’t risk her quitting on day three.

Her brow arched in mock offence, her movements methodical as she reached out and dramatically pushed a button. Not breaking eye contact, she crossed her arms and raised her chin at me.

The machine rumbled ominously, like a grumpy old man waking from a nap. The sound of water being suctioned hissed like a curse. My soul twisted into a tight coil that threatened to disperse under its own pressure.

Please don’t break, please don’t break, I chanted inwardly.

And then, like the gates of heaven opening, that glorious black nectar poured out, splashing into the cup with a richness that made my teeth unclench. The aroma of roasted coffee filled the air, and I couldn’t help the involuntary exhale of relief.

‘You underestimate me, D’Angelo,’ Paula quipped, twirling the screwdriver like she’d just disarmed a bomb – without even knowing how close it had come to blowing up in her face.

Her lips curved into a playful grin, the kind that exposed teeth too perfect for someone so mischievous.

For the first time, I noticed the sheen of her smile, the way her peach-tinted lips glistened, catching the light. She hadn’t smiled that much up until now, I realised.

Something in me gave way, and a new, far more dangerous tension began to build.

I had to sit down. Immediately. Hide behind my desk before she noticed what was stirring.

We were in the fucking office. In daylight. Every part of me knew I was one glance away from a fucking HR disaster.

A brand-new desk stood adjacent to mine, identical in every way: sleek, dark wood, polished to a shine, with the same ergonomic chair pushed neatly beneath it. Vinnie must’ve arranged for delivery after hours. The sight of it threw me off. She was going to be sitting really close.

‘I swear you looked like you were about to faint just now,’ Paula teased as she plopped into her chair, her laugh soft and melodic.

She handed me one of the two freshly made cups of coffee.

I took the cup carefully, as though it might crumble in my grip.

‘I won’t lie… I was,’ I grumbled, the bitterness of my morning still clinging to me like static. ‘That coffee maker makes the best damn coffee in the world. I’d sell a kidney for it.’ And not just my own.

She angled her chin – almost like a kitten considering something interesting.

‘Coffee is life,’ she added, sidling up to that.

A short chuckle escaped me, though I immediately broke eye contact. Staring into her blue-green eyes too long felt dangerous, like holding a match to a fuse – and I didn’t trust the situation in my jeans to stay neutral.

‘Good to know we’ve got another caffeine addict in our midst,’ I said, trying to keep my tone light. ‘What was wrong with the thing, anyway?’ I nodded at the traitorous machine, its little power light blinking off to spite me like a petulant child.

Paula waved her hand dismissively like it was no big deal. ‘Oh, just needed a good cleaning. A bunch of coffee grounds were stuck where they weren’t supposed to be. I sorted it out.’

Her tone was maddeningly casual, as if this machine hadn’t been mocking me for three whole months, refusing to do the one job it was made for.

I stared at her, incredulous.

‘You’re telling me,’ I said slowly, ‘that this thing wasn’t broken? It just needed to be cleaned?’

She raised an eyebrow, taking a leisurely whiff of her cup, her smirk barely hidden.

‘Machines are like people, boss. Neglect them, and they stop working properly.’

Unbelievable. I felt like a complete moron. How long had it been since I even thought about cleaning it? Months? Years? Did I even know coffee machines needed cleaning?

I glanced at her, then back at the machine, its dark indicator smugly dormant – just to spite me.

‘Fantastic,’ I muttered, dragging a hand over my face. ‘Woke up with a headache, now being outsmarted by a coffee maker and my assistant. Great morning. Truly.’