Ibrik

Ibrik was my favorite coffee house in the city. It was a three-story tall building with glass for walls and a rooftop garden. The first and second floors were for people to come to drink coffee and eat sweets while chatting with friends. There was a little more separation of the tables on the second floor, but the decorations were more of the same - lush plants hanging, eclectic decor, soft colored wood, and lovely natural lighting illuminating the place.

I was headed to the third floor though, where you could get a booth section to yourself. If more privacy was needed, they had retractable walls that could drop down from the ceiling to enclose each section. Surprisingly, the floor was more packed than usual given it was a Sunday. Most of the seats were full of groups of people chatting quietly or using their laptops to do some work.

I stopped by the barista bar in the center of the room. It was two perpendicular long slabs of marble topping a dark wood stand with comfy bar stools lined up perfectly on both sides. Currently, there was only one barista there, a familiar young man dressed in a white and black waiters outfit.

"Hi Nick, can I get an order of the usual and a booth please?" I smiled at him, noticing his dark locks pulled back into a loose ponytail, and the sleeves folded up to his elbows. He presented a really handsome picture but unfortunately, I wasn't his type.

"Dirty chai with soy milk and a chocolate croissant coming right up. Go grab your usual seat and I'll bring this over when I'm done." He smiled gently at me, ponytail swinging as he turned around to make my order.

Relieved that at least this interaction was normal, I started heading over to my usual seat. It was in the right front corner of the room facing the street. Not paying attention, I swung my bag into the seat and tried to sit down but was stopped by a small sound of pain.

Startled, I turned to see a man sitting there. When he turned to stare at me, I could feel a cold sweat drip down my back.

Shit. Why was it him again?

"Miss Blackwell, so nice to see you again although you clearly don't feel the same." I could hear a hint of humor in the deep voice.

"I am very sorry." I rushed to get out, bowing my head immediately. "I wasn't paying attention and hit you. Please forgive my rudeness."

"There's nothing to forgive. I'm sure it was an accident and no damage was done." was the smooth reply.

"Thank you. If you'll excuse me. I'll go find another seat." I rushed to say, gripping my bag tightly. It was time to move, move, move. Why was this man showing up all around me? Was he stalking me?

"There's nowhere else to sit in here really. All the other seats are full. Feel free to take the seat across from me if you'd like. You won't be disturbed."

"Oh no thank-" Before I could even get the words out, I was interrupted.

"Here is your tea and croissant. Please let me know if you need anything else." Nick said, gently placing down my order, giving me a wink, and zooming away.

"Sit. Eat your food. If you're worried about the media or somebody taking a picture, I know the owner. He doesn't allow such things in his establishment and the violators are heavily punished." I looked up to see he had stopped looking at me, his attention on the laptop I hadn't noticed before.

Quickly weighing the pros and cons of the situation, I sat. If a billionaire was saying the privacy here was unmatched, who was I to question him. Besides, I was hungry.