In the Air (The City Book 1) - By Crystal Serowka Page 0,22

Lalo. My name is Max. Can I take your order?" The man smiled at me, squinting behind his wire-framed glasses.

Being a dancer, you constantly had to be mindful of everything you put into your body. My mother always reminded me not to eat sugar or carbs. Now that I was at Juilliard, I had to be even more conscious of what I ate. Other than the incredible looking pastries that filled the displays, Cafe Lalo had a variety of yummy dishes on their menu, so I chose the organic oatmeal with raisins and hazelnuts. I also ordered a coffee and instructed Max to keep it coming. Caffeine: an addiction I refused to kick.

I sat at my cozy table, drinking my third cup of coffee. I hadn't felt this stress-free since before my dad passed away. I looked up from my paper I was writing, and noticed Samson walking into the shop. My first thought was that he followed me here, but then I snapped back to reality. I dipped down in my seat a moment too late–he spotted me. Crap, there goes my stress-free afternoon.

"Natalia, what are doing here?" He sat down in the empty chair across from me.

What if I was on a date? What an asshole to assume someone hadn't already claimed that seat.

"They weren't checking names at the door. What are you doing here?" I replied, hoping the bitterness in my voice was evident.

He smiled at me, waving Max over. Where is this dickhead from that he thinks it's okay to wave people over like they are his personal servants?

"Welcome to Cafe Lalo. My name is Max. Can I take your order?" Max didn't seem at all irritated by Samson's rudeness.

"I'll take a coffee, black, and a blueberry scone." Samson handed the menu to Max without a glance in his direction. As Max walked off, Samson's gaze pierced into me.

"I'm sorry about the other night." He seemed sincere.

"Two apologies in one week? I thought you were bad at those?"

"I am, but I feel like we need to clear the air. Every time we've had a conversation, it's ended with you stomping out of the room." Samson eyed me the same way he did before kissing me.

"I believe it was you and your large ego that stomped out of the room the other night." I gave him my best fake smile.

"Listen, Natalia," he started.

I was surprised Samson didn't called me 'doll', but I had to admit, I liked the way my name rolled off his tongue.

"We obviously got off on the wrong foot. I didn't mean to offend you. I think I'm very different from what you perceive me to be."

"I don't recall inviting you to sit down with me, so if you feel like I'm being too harsh, you can get up and find your own table." I looked around the busy cafe, seeing there weren't any tables available. "Looks like everything is filled up though, so you'll have to get your order to go."

It pissed me off that Samson was bringing out my ugly side. I wasn't the type to speak down to anyone, but he was like a tick that was impossible to remove from the surface.

"Geez, Natalia!" Samson raised his voice and I could tell he was getting angry ... so was I. "You act like I ran over your dog! You really don't know anything about me and it doesn't seem as if you care to learn." Samson stood up, reaching for his wallet.

When I saw him digging through his cash, I knew if I didn't stop him from leaving, we would never last the entire year as dance partners. He had a point, I didn't know him. I lumped him into the same category as the types I'd known in Illinois. The love 'em and leave 'em types. The Cole type. Maybe Samson was different.

"Samson, wait," I exhaled, trying to reel in my anger. "You're right. I don't know you that well, and making assumptions is wrong. It's happened to me my whole life and it's awful that I'm being a hypocrite. I'm sorry." I took a deep breath. "It's just ... you have this annoying way about you."

Samson glared down at me. "You're sorry, yet you're still cutting me down?"

"Hear me out. What I'm trying to say is that you portray yourself as someone who's better than everyone else. It just reminds me of someone I used to know." I explained.

Samson returned to his seat. He stared down at the table,