Noah had been in the cafe for twenty minutes and was on his first frappe when the barista came around from behind the counter with a cloth, wiping down the tables nearby.
She got to his and took her time with it, and when she straightened up, she looked at him directly.
"You're cute," she said, like it was a simple observation rather than anything loaded.
Noah blinked at her bluntness.
He wasn't very good with compliments, which was something that he had learned to hide after getting them so much in his line of work, but this was sudden and unexpected.
Still, he hadn't finished recovering when she reached into the front pocket of her apron and put a small card on the table in front of him.
Then she leaned over and grabbed the pen by Noah's side before writing her number and then dropping the pen beside the card.
"Call me," she said, and went back behind the counter and through the door to the back without looking around.
Noah watched the door for a second.
