I arrived at the meeting spot and parked my car in a nearby lot. Stepping out, I made my way to the meeting place—it was Leonamon's Cake Shop.
As soon as I walked in, the metal chimes rang out, and the rich scent of pastries filled the air. The place was packed with customers, so much so that every table was taken. It was no surprise; after all, this was Leonamon's cake shop.
A woman with closed eyes approached me slowly. She gave off an airheaded vibe, as if she was lost in thought about something, even though she should have been focused on her task right now.
She glided over to me and said, "Hello, welcome to Leonamon's Cake Shop. How may I assist you today?"
Despite her deliberate movements, she was surprisingly adept at her job. I told her I had a reservation for a room. She asked for my name, then paused, her eyes unfocused as if searching through her mental archives. After a moment, she seemed to snap back to reality and directed me to follow her.
