"Anything. But don't fire me, please!" I plead, bowing to my boss. 
I can't afford to lose my job, which is barely a week old. The condition of my family back home can't even allow me to become jobless.
"Your punishment is...." God, I know how cold this man is. I also know that I offended him by calling him that name. It was a bad slip of the tongue. I won't repeat it again. For the sake of the poor souls depending on me, please don't let him fire me!  "You will not call me by any other name." My jaw drops as my eyes snap to his face. "Just Andy!" He winks and stands up with my brain and breath too.
Forget my confusion from his proclamations. Forget even how my heart is throbbing with euphoria from his statement. Did he... Did he actually just, wink at me? As in... He winked at me? Freaking hute!!! So he jokes, aside from with his daughter? No hell way... I mean, wow! 
He has been always icy, serious, and quiet to me since I came here. This is so new to me. So freaking new!
"Are we clear on that?" He speaks, snapping my thoughts and scrutiny from him since I had embarked on a mission to ransack his face until forever.
I wiggle my head a little to amass my thoughts, clearing my throat once.
"You...are... okay with that? I mean, isn't it too casual for a boss and employee?" I implore.
"I like it, and that's final. It's a million times better than that annoying "sir" of yours. What were you saying?"
Ahem! 
I know that means the end of discussion. So, I guess it's Andy, from now on? Sweet and easy, but it doesn't sit well with me all the same. But I know I have no grounds to contend it. He is my boss. His is to command, and mine is to obey. Andy, it is. 
I heave a sigh.
"Okay. I wanted to ask if you could allow me to at least make coffee. Even just for today. Please." I mumble.
He eyes me for quite a while, then he shakes his head.
"This kitchen hasn't been used for years. My wife never liked being in the kitchen. We are used to eating outside, and I don't want my daughter to get attached to things that won't last, Tania. So, no!" He declares, and I tuck my lips inside, forming a straight line.
No? Come on, Andy!
Looking at him, I sense that he is suddenly sinking in thoughts. Seems like he kind of remembered his wife. And...not in a good way, presumably.
Why?
Wait...
What kind of wife will not cook for her family? I mean, I understand that there are days one would feel exhausted and all, but not even a day to cook for your family? 
I think whatever transpired between him and his wife hurts him even now. A lot because he suddenly looks lost somewhere in a dark jungle. He is swimming in a thick quagmire of assorted thoughts.
"Well, I respect your decision, Andy, but it's just coffee. And I am not in a haste to leave, by the way." I speak, and I add when I finally get his attention back. "My family depends entirely on me. And our condition back home doesn't allow me to become jobless any time soon." I try to push my luck, fingers crossed, in the hope that he doesn't yell at me.
After breathing out heavily, he speaks.
"Okay. You can make coffee. You know how to use the coffee machine." He asks, and I shake my head.
How can I know how to use a coffee machine if I have never even seen one? I am yet to get accustomed to this modernized life of the rich. I hope I will be able to, though, because it's like the rich and the poor don't live in the same world as I thought. Everything is so distinct, including the aura they breathe. Theirs is fresher than ours, and I think it even has a scent—a sweet scent.
"Can I first go out to buy lemons and honey?" I speak, and I know it is absurd of me to ask because it's almost nine at night, but I can't have coffee without lemons. And I can't send my boss to the stores, right?
"Tell Mark to get you lemons and honey from the market. Buy as much as you want." He says and hands me some cash from his pocket, and like a happy kid, I jog out of the kitchen to meet Mark and run back immediately after speaking to him.
Mark doesn't take long to come back since there is no traffic at this hour, but within that short time, Andy has shown me how to use the coffee machine. With Andy comfortably perched on the kitchen stool, still on his phone, I make coffee peacefully and with solace, and I make a lot of it. I don't care if I will battle to sleep after consuming two or three mugs of coffee at this time. I just miss it so much.

"Here, try it." I mutter, setting a mug of hot, steaming coffee on the table, and he sniffs it. I take mine and start strolling out of the kitchen.
Boss-and-employee distance is paramount. It's respect.
"Where are you going?" His voice stops me in my tracks, and I turn to him.
"To have my coffee," I say.
What gesture of what I am doing is unclear to him, though?
"There is a lot of space here." He says, putting his phone down, pulling another stool, and patting it. I don't move because I don't want to misconstrue the gesticulation. It definitely can't be what my little brain is screaming at me. It's... "Am I that scary that you can't imagine yourself sitting beside me?" He adds, righting my brain's unbelievable thoughts.
"Aah.. no! It's just that... it's" Ahem! Ahem! What am I saying? "Nothing." I trash whatever I wanted to say, shuffle back, and sit on the stool next to him after pulling it away from him a little.
I try to forget the notion of my cold boss beside me and the fact that we are sharing coffee like this and bury my face in the mug. The steam might do a meritorious job of blowing away the discomforts that I am feeling.