Chapter 3 Spark Of Annoyance

Clara Bellamy had never been more certain of one thing: life was trying to break her spirit, one ridiculous situation at a time. And today? Today was another prime example. She hadn’t expected Julian Nightingale to show up at her favorite coffee shop. Not in a million years. She also hadn’t expected him to stroll in like he owned the place, wearing that smug expression that made Clara want to throw a perfectly good latte in his face. But there he was, standing in the doorway, looking like some sort of corporate superhero. Too good-looking for his own good. Too rich for his own good. Too everything for her own good. “Great. Just great,” Clara muttered under her breath as she took a long sip from her cup, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would go away. No such luck. She could feel his eyes on her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. There was no way he was oblivious to her presence. Julian had this innate ability to make you feel like you were under a microscope, even in a crowded coffee shop. It was the same feeling she got every time they crossed paths in a business setting. He was always there, lurking. Watching. Calculating. It was like he had nothing better to do than exist in her personal space. “Miss Bellamy,” Julian said, his voice smooth as velvet, but with that edge of arrogance she loathed. He slid into the seat across from her without asking, as if he were entitled to it. Clara stared at him blankly, taking another sip of her coffee. “Really? You couldn’t have just ordered your own drink and left me in peace?” “Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” He raised an eyebrow, settling back into the chair as if he were at home. “Besides, you look like you need someone to spice up your morning.” “Spice up my morning?” Clara chuckled, shaking her head. “The only thing you could spice up is my blood pressure.” He smirked, that irritating smirk of his that made her want to reach across the table and slap it off his face. But she resisted. Barely. “You do realize,” Julian said, eyes gleaming, “that avoiding me is only making this whole ‘rivalry’ more entertaining, right?” Clara’s lips twitched. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to be impressed by your charming personality? Because I’ll admit, I’m holding back a serious emotional breakdown from all the ‘entertainment’ you’ve brought into my life.” “That’s the spirit.” Julian leaned forward, voice lowering. “But let’s face it, Bellamy, we both know this is more than just a rivalry. You like me.” Clara nearly choked on her coffee. “I like you? Are you serious?” “Very serious.” His gaze flickered to her cup before meeting her eyes again. “You’re just trying to act like you don’t.” “Julian, the only thing I’m trying to act like is someone who doesn’t want to strangle you with your tie.” She leaned back, trying to hide the fact that his gaze was making her heart do weird flips. It was a good thing she didn’t want to acknowledge that. “Oh, I know. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife.” He grinned. “But I’m willing to bet you’d miss me if I wasn’t around. Admit it.” She stared at him, deadpan. “I’d miss your ability to make me look like I have a mental breakdown in public? Sure, I guess. In the same way I miss getting a paper cut on my finger.” “Harsh,” Julian said, but the amused glint in his eyes didn’t disappear. “Let’s not pretend we’re anything but business enemies, Julian,” Clara said, placing her empty cup down with finality. “I’m not the least bit interested in whatever twisted little game you’re playing. I’ve got enough to deal with, and I’m sure you do, too.” His lips curled up at the corner. “Oh, but we both know you love the game. The thrill of competition. The spark between us.” “Please,” Clara said, raising her hand in mock surrender. “You’re really stretching it now. I’m just trying to make it through the week without running into you again, let alone having a ‘spark.’” Julian’s eyes flickered with something, but he quickly masked it with that frustrating, flawless smile. “You can keep pretending, Bellamy, but we both know that deep down, you’re counting down the minutes until you see me again.” “Do you ever get tired of being wrong?” Clara quipped, standing up from the table. “I need to go before I get dragged into another ‘I’m better than you’ conversation. I’ve got work to do.” But as she turned to leave, she couldn’t help but notice Julian’s gaze lingering on her. It was brief—just a second—but enough to make her pause. She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Get a grip, Clara. This is Julian Nightingale, the last man you need to have any sort of connection with. ⚡ Clara was still stewing over her interaction with Julian when she arrived back at her apartment later that evening. The moment she entered, her phone buzzed with a message from Olivia. Olivia: So how was your little coffee date with Julian today? I mean, it sounded like you two were about to start a fire together. Clara didn’t bother responding right away. Instead, she sank into her couch, massaging her temples as she tried to shake off the unsettling feeling Julian’s presence always seemed to leave behind. A knock at the door broke her reverie. She stood up, moving toward it, and swung it open to find Olivia standing there, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “So,” Olivia began, “spill it. You and Julian are clearly destined for something, whether you want to admit it or not.” Clara rolled her eyes. “No. We’re not. And please don’t remind me of him. I’m trying to forget I ever saw that smug face today.” “Oh, so you admit he’s got a smug face?” Olivia’s grin only grew wider. “Then why does your pulse rate go up every time he looks at you?” Clara stopped short, her fingers curling around the door handle. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” “Suit yourself.” Olivia shrugged but didn’t leave. “But we both know that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.” ⚡ Clara’s phone buzzed again—this time a call from Frank. “Clara, I need to talk to you about the Nightingale proposal,” Frank said, skipping the pleasantries. “It’s crunch time. Julian’s going to be at the office tomorrow. I want you both on the same page.” Clara bit her lip, suppressing a groan. “Great. Just what I needed.” “You’re gonna have to work with him, Clara. Make it happen.” “Yeah, I’ll make it happen.” Clara replied dryly. As she hung up the phone, she realized one thing for sure: she was about to spend more time with Julian Nightingale. And that was a problem.