One week earlier
Alison Myers, 28 year-old barista at the Midtown Manhattan branch of the Tête-á-Tête gourmet coffee house franchise, was struggling to get through the morning and through her life. She pushed back her long blonde hair and tried to focus. The customer in front of her was angry. They were all angry today. It was a Monday from hell. Heavy rain poured down outside onto a gray New York City and the grumpy morning office crowd was being even more obnoxious than usual. New Yorkers like things fast and they don't like mistakes.
It was a far cry from the small Midwestern town Alison had been raised in, pouring coffee in her uncle's little rest stop café. People had all been so nice there. Slow, but nice. Now this guy was shouting at her and there was a long line of irate customers behind him.
Alison felt like throwing her barista's apron on the ground, hightailing it out of the shop as far away as she could get.
"I'm sorry sir, could you repeat that?"
"How many goddamn times do I have to repeat it?"
Jeez, you only asked me once. She thought.
"Where's the goddamn manager?" He screamed.
Sebastian Drummond stood behind the pretty blonde and struggled to fight his instincts to go and over and throw the man out into the street. He had to remember that he was no longer Sebastian Drummond the billionaire, but Daniel Johnson, the brand new, entry level, empty the trash and mop the floor guy at the Tête-á-Tête café in Midtown Manhattan.
There was a reason he had to conceal his identity.
Don't screw it up this time, Sebastian. He thought.
"Sir, if you'll just repeat the order," he said, mastering his anger, "I'll be happy to take care of it for you." If it was anything he had a talent for, it was controlling and manipulating people.
Not that he was exactly proud of it.
"I don't want to repeat the order. If I wanted to repeat orders, I would have joined the Marines. I asked to see a manager and I'm not leaving this goddamn counter," he glared behind him at the long line of exasperated customers, "until I see someone in charge."
"I'm the manager here." Sebastian said with absolute confidence. The petite blonde woman was right in front of him and already he could feel her, wanting to reach out to her and hold her. It was his first day on the job -- his first hour -- and he was supposed to stay out back, emptying trash, cleaning the floor, and lifting boxes, but he didn't care. He could have bought the café on a whim if he wanted to, or even the entire chain if he felt like it.