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I also did a little snooping on him and I never thought there would be someone with a reputation almost as bad as mine until I looked him up but for some reason, the general public seemed to love him despite his reputation of being an ass.

He also sounded very young and that was a bonus because it was hard to see well established people in this field who are not way older than I am.

I got to Angel’s Café and waited a full minute before I got out of the car.

The coffee shop was located right in the middle of the street and has a rustic theme, with wooden beams and panels forming the exterior walls and a large glass window frontage. Pots filled with various colorful flowers were scattered all over the outside in beautiful chaos.

The bell above the door chimed as I pulled it open .

The interior was divided into two sections, with the coffee shop on the right where you could find a range of espresso machines and grinders, while on the left was the bake shop where a display of freshly baked pastries and sandwiches sat.

There were several tables and chairs made of dark, polished wood with a vase of fresh flowers on each one.

I looked around the quiet café, only two tables were occupied by a single person and I knew without a doubt that Mr. Cowe had to be at the table by the far end of the shop.

The first table had a man who looks to be in his late forties, and from what I heard, Mr. Cowe would be in his early thirties or late twenties like me.

I walked over to the table at the far end. The man there had curly light brown hair that he kept neatly trimmed. He wore a plain blue button up with black slacks.

He didn’t look up as I approached, his eyes glued to his phone screen.

“You must be Mr. Cowe,” I began, “I apologize for being late.”

He looked up just as I placed my bag on the table and I had to smother down a curse.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I muttered under my breath as I found myself staring into a pair of familiar striking grey eyes.

Recognition overtook his features as he took me in slowly. I exhaled deeply and took a seat opposite the same man who spilled his drink on me twice in one day.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were stalking me.” I began as I leaned back into my chair, “pro tip, that’s not exactly the best way to approach a potential work partner. ”

“I assure you that I never had any intentions of stalking you whatsoever,” he spoke slowly, almost as if he was bored, “I just happened to bump into you. New York is a small place; it was bound to happen one way or another. How about we start over on a clean slate? Probably one that is devoid of coffee and beer stains.”

The corner of my lips twitched but I smothered down my smile, “Coffee and beer stains are really hard to get out though.”

“Well then, we may just have to build on top of it.” He concluded with an outstretched hand.

I looked at it for probably a second too long before deciding to take it. His palms were rough, almost as if he had spent a lot of time doing manual labor.

He let go after a second and sat up straight, “My name is Nathan Cowe; I am the owner of Cowe Media and I reached out to your secretary yesterday to make known my interest in pursuing a documentary-”

“I know everything I need to know about your business Mr. Cowe,” I interrupted him, “What I need to know is why I should do the documentary with you.”

“I just might be the only person who would be able or willing to stand your attitude.”

I raised a brow at his words, “Insulting a person isn’t the best way to start a work partnership. I think you missed a class in Business Relationship 101.”

“It’s not an insult if it is something that you have admitted times without number on national television.” He said simply and I realized reluctantly, that he was right.

“Touché; but that doesn’t mean that I want to work with you.”

He ignored my statement just as a waiter brought in one steaming mug of coffee and one mug of hot chocolate.

“I took the liberty of ordering,” he told me and while I knew it wasn’t anything special, I was impressed, “Your favorite drink is hot chocolate, isn’t it?”

“Thank you,” I said after a second of being speechless.

He gave me a simple nod as I took a sip of my drink. It burned my throat as it went down and I made a mental note to come back here again and again.

“What’s your name?” his voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“I think you missed the entire Business 101 course,” I tsked, “That is bad journalism if I’ve ever seen it Mr. Cowe; you should have done your research before coming here.”

“Humor me,” his tone was dry.

I paused for dramatic effect and took another sip of my drink, “It is Adira Emiade Arogundade, which you would have known from a single web search.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Adira,” he ignored my taunt, “And an even greater pleasure to do business with you.”

“We haven’t agreed on whether we will be doing business together, so don’t get ahead of yourself,” I told him, “And speaking of getting ahead of yourself; it’s a bit forward to assume that I would want to be referred to by my first name. We aren’t even acquaintances yet.”

“I am fairly confident that I will butcher your last name if I tried, and although I didn’t take Business 101, I know better than to do that.”

“That must have been so emasculating for you to admit. ”

“I have more than enough confidence in myself as a person to be derailed by something as simple as not being able to pronounce a name in another language.”

“Don’t you journalists pride yourself in knowing everything?”

“Aren’t you fashion designers all divas?” he threw back and this time I couldn’t help a small smile from growing, “This isn’t a romance novel where the guy knows how to speak every language on earth.”

“If this was a romance novel, you wouldn’t be the main guy.”

This seemed to interest him because for the first time since we started talking, he leaned forward on his elbows. “Who would I be?”

“An annoying and irrelevant character who probably dies after the third chapter.” I shrugged as I busied myself with my nails.

“The first three chapters sound like they will be the best part of the entire book.”

“Someone has an inflated sense of self worth,” I mused, “But quite the contrary actually; it would make for a very slow beginning.”

“I look forward to reading it and proving you wrong.”

I couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped my lips. How the hell did we get to talking about a book? I was supposed to be shutting whatever this is down because I didn’t want to do a documentary.

‘ Are you so sure about that?’ my inner voice nagged.

“If I work with you,” I began and I saw the hint of a smile begin to form, “I said ‘if’ Mr. Cowe, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Of course you haven’t,” sarcasm ran thick in his voice.

I chose to ignore that and continue, “If I decide to work with you, we are going to have to set some ground rules. ”

“I’m open to negotiation.”

“First of all I don’t want my employee’s faces plastered all over the internet. Their identities will be protected unless they say otherwise.”

“Done, anything else?”

“I want to have final say on everything that goes on the internet. There will be nothing about my personal life, and no intrusive questions. You film only when I’m working for the fashion show and during the event. Nothing else about my business goes to the public.”

“If that’s all, then we have a deal.” He waited to see if I would say anything else, “I’ll draft up a contract and send it over to you. If there’s anything that you don’t agree with then let me know.”

“Great,” I held out my hand, “It looks like you have yourself a deal.”

He took my hand with a grin and a buzz from my phone had me quickly pulling away. A small frown marred my face as I read the text.

I gathered my things and turned to Nathan.

“It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Cowe,” I said to him, “We might have an agreement but I still plan to make your time with me a living hell.”

He raised a brow as if challenging me to do my worst, “I look forward to working with you Adira.”