Hot Coffee (The Hollens)

Ethan's POV

Hearing Emma's voice sent chills all over me again. She brought out the heat in me. I was missing having her near me— her beautiful bright brown eyes, soft hair, silky brown skin, full lips and soft calming voice, but with an edge to slice you in half whenever she got angry. My Emma.

"Hannah, I don't like this coffee. Remake this. I want it to be perfect this time," I said for the fifth time.

I was in my home office, typing out the contents and organizing for my company's Autumn Gala in two weeks. It would be extraordinary; it always was. I hosted the event each year before winter to raise money for homeless shelters and children with cancer at the local hospitals and cancer treatment centers in America. The company raised millions each year.

"But, Mr. Hollen, I've made the coffee over five times already, and it's still not to your liking?"

"Hannah, if I don't like the taste of it, I won't drink it. I want a drinkable cup of coffee."

"What's wrong with it, sir?" she asked with a little attitude. 

I arched my eyebrows. "It doesn't taste like what I usually drink."

"That's because I wasn't the one who usually makes your coffee. Why don't you get your fiancee to mak—"

"Get Out!" The nerve of that woman to stand there and talk back to me with such attitude.

"This is bull, Mr. Hollen! You're taking your frustrations out on me over a cup of coffee I've made five times. I'm not your fiancee. I don't know how she made your coffee," she snapped, taking the cup from the desk then storming out, slamming the door behind her.

Emma must have told her that she was the one who always made my coffee. She was still upset about that that unforgettable night.

I shook off what just happened with Hannah because she was right. I was taking my frustration out on her over the coffee because it tasted nothing like what Emma used to make for me. Emma's coffee was special, just like her. It calmed me, revived me and took my stress away. I was dying for her coffee and the new maid, nor even Halley, could perfect it. 

I heaved a sigh in frustration but I went back into typing on my computer. 

A knock came at the door.

"Who's it?"

"Halley."

"Come in, Halley."

Mr. Hollen, but you said

the computer and latched onto her. Both she and I had

did she

she didn't want

tell you

to change her phone when the weekend is over. She knows you

it. I forgot to contact my ICT guy. I'm certain he could track it

calling her a while back and

this," my voice was breaking. I couldn't stand the thought of her being out there alone and unsafe. The police still hadn't located my mother and Sharon as of yet. Heaven

be close by, you could find her. Some pompous paparazzi is bound to capture her on a street or in a cafe or even at an apartment

about that. I'll watch the GSDC."

Halley. You're

the best boss and

I cut her off with a sharp

know if you find

nodded and she left

of new gossip and rumors about celebrities and the rich and famous, captured pictures, trending fashions, what's out and what's in, etc. I hated the channel so much. I didn't know how anyone could sit down and watched

not find anything about Emma and had been looking for almost an hour. I gave up, eventually, and headed to my kitchen. I was exhausted and hungry.

Halley yelled, rushing to me with her

a couple in a silver convertible. "Halley, what is this?" I asked, studying the picture; I was trying to place that guy's face. He

at me, taking the phone and zooming in on

blood boiled. She seemed happy, she was smiling and so was the

rage, squeezing the phone in the palms of

owner of some kind of upcoming, local hotel chain or something. His name

read the caption. Their names weren't stated but the title read: