Jerica sat, crossing her legs with deliberate grace. The ambiance of the Island Café, with its polished wooden furniture and faint aroma of roasted coffee beans, lent a cozy yet slightly formal atmosphere to the encounter.
"After the gala, I was expecting your call," Lydia said, the faintest trace of expectation lacing her words.
Jerica mustered a smile, careful to keep her tone neutral. "I apologize for that. The weekend was unexpectedly busy."
A moment of silence passed as Lydia's gaze shifted to the waiter who approached, placing two menus on the table with practiced precision. Lydia gave a polite nod, her attention momentarily diverted.
Jerica picked up the menu, eyes skimming over the offerings until they landed on "Affogato." A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Coffee mingled with vanilla ice cream—comfort in a cup. But she hesitated. This was her first time at the Island Café, and she wasn't confident in their ability to do it justice.
