Emma slid into the booth, dropped her bag, and opened her planner before looking up.
The man across from her blinked. “Not that I mind,” he said, “but… are we meeting?”
She froze. The café was crowded. Rain had turned the windows hazy and the seats scarce. She looked around, flustered, and spotted her friend two tables over, waving with an apologetic shrug.
“Oh,” she said. “Wrong booth. I’m so sorry.”
He smiled. Not the dismissive kind. The kind that lingered. “No problem. But now I’m curious—what’s on your agenda?”
Emma hesitated. Then she turned the planner so he could see. “Today was supposed to be the day I take a leap.”
He leaned in slightly. “How’s that going?”
She looked at her friend, then at him. She didn’t move.
“Better than expected,” she said.
He waved the barista over. “Another coffee?” he asked, just before she could stand.
She stayed seated.