I walked into the cafe with Jordan on my heels.
The cool air-conditioned air enveloped my body like a blanket of relief.
The Manhattan sun was not being kind to us mere mortals today. Sweat trickled down my temples and I wiped it away on the back of my sleeve.
I hadn't spoken a word to Jordan ever since we stepped out of the elevator. We had been standing in the long line, outstretched for about half a mile outside the Cafe Connect, and neither of us bothered to converse. I think the heat was excruciating enough for the both of us to engage in another mindless banter.
The way that Jordan's behavior changed from day to night was spooky. I had not been able to wrap my mind around his new docile approach towards me.
"Why don't you get us a table and I'll place our orders?" Jordan said.
