The small, cozy cafeteria near the city center was relatively quiet during the afternoon lull.
Soft jazz played in the background while the aroma of fresh coffee and baked pastries filled the air.
Marzella was sitting alone at a corner table near the window.
A half-finished cup of black coffee sat in front of her, untouched for the past ten minutes.
Her fingers tapped nervously against the side of the cup as she kept glancing toward the entrance.
The bell above the door chimed softly.
Marzella looked up.
Brandon walked in, dressed casually in a dark jacket and pants, his striking appearance drawing a few subtle glances from other customers.
He looked at the room briefly before his eyes settled on her.
"Dr. Quillhart," he greeted, pulling out the chair opposite her and sitting down smoothly.
"Sorry if I kept you waiting."
