The Latte Fallout

Emma stood in the back room of Café Brew Haven, gripping the edges of the stainless-steel counter like it was a life raft. Linda’s glare could curdle milk.

"Emma," Linda started, arms crossed like an angry school principal. "How many times have we talked about being careful?"

Emma winced. "Uh… technically, a lot. But in my defense, I was careful! It’s just that physics wasn’t on my side today."

Linda pinched the bridge of her nose. "Emma, physics is never on your side."

Okay, fair.

Emma sighed, flopping onto a stool. "Look, I already apologized to the guy. I even offered to pay for dry cleaning, but he said not to worry about it. He didn’t even yell at me!"

Linda’s eyes narrowed. "He didn’t yell?"

"Nope. Just a few sarcastic comments. Honestly, he was surprisingly chill about the whole thing."

Linda hummed, tapping her fingers on the counter. "Tall guy? Dark hair? Looks like he stepped out of a men’s fashion ad?"

Emma frowned. "Uh… yeah. Wait, how do you—"

"Oh, Emma." Linda groaned. "Do you have any idea who that was?"

Emma blinked. "Mr. Very Unlucky Coffee Drinker?"

Linda threw her hands in the air. "Noah Sinclair. CEO of Sinclair & Co.? One of the biggest investment firms in the city? That guy is worth more than this entire coffee shop!"

Emma froze.

No. No way. That guy? The guy she basically baptized in caramel macchiato?

"Are you messing with me?" she asked weakly.

"Why would I joke about this?" Linda shook her head. "He comes in sometimes, usually in a hurry. And you just drenched him in sugar and dairy."

Emma slumped against the counter. Of course. Of course, she would pick the richest man in town to humiliate.

"Well," she muttered, "at least he doesn’t seem like the lawsuit type."

Linda exhaled. "Just… be extra careful from now on, okay? And if he comes back, maybe try not to dump anything on him."

Emma nodded, fully planning to avoid Noah Sinclair for the rest of her life.

Unfortunately for her, fate had other plans.

Later That Evening…

After her shift, Emma collapsed onto her couch, her cat, Biscuit, immediately claiming her lap like the fluffy tyrant he was.

"Well, buddy," she sighed, scratching his ears, "I think I hit a new record for public humiliation today."

Biscuit just purred, blissfully unaware of his owner’s life crisis.

Emma pulled out her phone and mindlessly scrolled until something caught her eye—a headline in the city’s business section.

“Noah Sinclair Spotted at Local Café—A Rare Public Sighting of the Reclusive CEO”

Oh. No.

Emma sat up so fast Biscuit tumbled off her lap with an indignant meow. She barely noticed, too busy staring at the headline in horror.

It was just a blurry paparazzi shot, taken from outside the café. But that didn’t make her panic any less real.

If people were paying attention to where he went for coffee, what if they found out what she did?

What if she became The Barista Who Spilled Coffee on a Billionaire?

Emma locked her phone and threw it across the couch like it was cursed.

She was never seeing Noah Sinclair again. Ever.

Unfortunately for her, Noah Sinclair wasn’t done with her yet.

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