The First Dinner Nobody Planned
It happened because of rain and a biscuit situation.
They'd arranged to meet on a Saturday — the third Saturday, now a tentative routine — in a park near the Avenida da Liberdade that Daniel had approved on his systematic survey. It started raining at noon, with the sudden lack of remorse of the Lisbon autumn, and by the time she and Daniel arrived, it was the kind of rain that made outdoor benches absurd.
She texted Leonardo: Raining. Should we reschedule?
He replied: Is there somewhere nearby? Inside.
She looked around. There was a café across the street — old, traditional, the kind with dark wood and mirrors and pastéis under glass.
Café across the street, she sent.
He was already there when they arrived, at a corner table, his coat still slightly
