Capítulo 1
This is a story with no happy ending, nor a bad one—it is just reality.
When it all started, I didn’t realize how capable I was or what I could achieve, but she was the one who showed me: Miss Katherine.
She is that customer who orders a black coffee every time she steps into the shop. She is my boss’s friend, which is how I first met her and started having small conversations with her. On one occasion, my boss went on a business trip and put me in charge of the store. Katherine didn’t drop by every day, but whenever she did, she always made sure I was the one serving her. Sometimes she would even call the shop under the pretense of checking on work or asking about my boss, only to drop a simple “Are you there?” A few minutes later, she would appear at the store.
My coworkers started teasing me about it. They insisted she was being way too obvious—and that I was, too—because I would get flustered every time she showed up and talked to me. But I tried to keep my feet on the ground: I knew she was married and had a son, even though I hadn’t met her husband yet.
Then, about three weeks went by without us speaking. She had fallen ill from work stress and took two weeks off. So, I didn’t know anything about her during that time.
A few days later, my boss called to let me know that Miss Katherine would be coming to the shop for an urgent pick-up because she had a late meeting and was in a hurry. Naturally, I was the one assigned to serve her.
While I was gathering her items, she followed close behind me, telling me everything she had been up to during those two weeks—giving me far more details than I had asked for, though I didn’t mind at all.
“I’m not really recovered yet, but I have to work,” she said as I placed two coffees into a bag. “I need someone to help me when I’m out like this. In fact, I shouldn’t even be here right now.”
I felt a sudden pang of sadness seeing how exhausted she was, but I didn’t let it show.
“I have to resolve things, and being here is taking up my time,” she added, almost as if she were saying it on purpose to gauge my reaction.
“Wait here, I’ll go get the rest of the stuff,” I told her, needing a moment to collect myself so I wouldn’t show how much her tone got to me.
I started walking toward the back, but I could sense her right behind me. She let out a weary sigh and smiled at me:
“Go and open the car while I get the other things.”
“Why do you speak to me like that? Why no ‘honey’? ‘My love’? ‘Babe’?” she blurted out suddenly.
That caught me completely off guard, but I tried my best not to show it.
“You’re talking to me like I’m just some kind of bro to you,” she added, making no effort to head to the car herself.
She was definitely making things challenging for me. I took the bags and walked out toward her car, with her following right behind me. From a distance, my coworkers were enjoying the view as always, scanning Miss Katherine up and down because, to be honest, she is hot as hell.
When I reached the back door, I turned around, locked eyes with her, and took the risk of smiling (I knew it was inappropriate, but I did it anyway).
“Babe...” I said.
The moment the word left my mouth, her eyes met mine with a look of slight surprise.
“...can you please open this door? And let me do my job, you’re distracting me.”
She smiled and did what I asked.
“Wait here, I’ll go get the other bags,” I told her, and headed back inside.
When I returned, she was still standing there, but she was on a phone call with her assistant—the one who makes her life easier but annoys her constantly. Since she had closed the car door, I needed her help to open it again, so I waited by her side. She looked at me while saying into the phone, “I’m on my way,” and hung up.
She opened the door for me, and I leaned into the passenger side to set everything down safely, placing her coffee in a secure spot.
“Here’s yours,” I said, pointing to the other bag with three more coffees. “These have sticky notes specifying what each one is. Don’t take those off before delivering them.”
She listened and nodded. I was just about to say goodbye when she spoke up first.
“I need someone to handle this part of the job for me,” she said, locking eyes with me. “Don’t get me wrong, but I shouldn’t be here running these errands. I need another assistant because Alex can’t keep up; she doesn’t have time.”
She paused, laughed softly, and let out:
“Come and work with me... Although no, Mario would kill me.”
It caught me by surprise, but I just smiled back at her. She started the car engine, and just as I was about to shut the door to let her leave, I said:
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She looked at me, smiled, nodded, and said goodbye.
As I walked back to the store, I realized just how much her presence affected me. I spent the rest of the day daydreaming about her. She is gorgeous, but I know the reality: she is completely out of my league. She has a son, a husband, and a life already built. I can’t just make a stupid move on her. To her, I probably just look like a kid.
Maybe I’ve read too many MILF romance books and my mind has been corrupted by them, but I can’t deny that Miss Katherine—14 years older than me—is making me want to make those stories come true.
