A Meeting Over Coffee
710 Words
It had been a few weeks since that fateful accident, but the memory still lingered in my mind. I often found myself wondering about the elderly lady, hoping she had made a full recovery and was safe and sound. Regrettably, I didn't even know her name and my own foolish pride had prevented me from accepting the invitation from her family. At the time, I had feared they might want to reward me, and my self-respect had intervened. Nevertheless, I continued to say a prayer for her each night before bed.
Shaking myself from these thoughts, I redirected my attention to the new event I was about to tackle. Organizing an event on such a grand scale was uncharted territory for me, and I chided myself while sipping my coffee. I had chosen a quaint café not far from my office to meet with my client, Mr. Jaxon. He had reached out to me a couple of days ago, claiming to work for Ren & Co., a renowned name in the industry.
It surprised me that a prestigious brand like Ren & Co. would outsource its event management services, as it was not a common practice for such major players. Initially, I had been cautious, almost certain it was some sort of scam. I meticulously cross-referenced the company details and Mr. Jaxon's information. My paranoid nature had its reasons, after all. I always believed it was better to be safe than sorry.
Once, I was convinced that Mr. Jaxon was a genuine person. I agreed to meet, but only on my terms. My first rule was never to go to their location for the initial meeting. I always chose a public place, a setting where I felt comfortable and where people knew me. It was a precautionary measure, ensuring that there were potential witnesses in case anything went awry. My life experiences had moulded me into a cautious person, and I had learned to trust my instincts.
The place where we decided to meet wasn't a fancy restaurant you'd find in big cities. It was a cosy café, run by a friendly family, right in our neighbourhood. The café had a warm and inviting atmosphere. The walls were painted in earthy colours like brown and yellow, making it feel like home. What made it even more special were the paintings on the walls, made by local artists. It was a way to support talent from our community, and the art added a unique touch to the place.
When you walked in, there was a big board with the specials of the day written on it. It's like a list of extra yummy things they were serving that day. It was hard to resist trying something from that list.
One thing that always caught my attention was the display of freshly baked goods. The smell of those baked goods filled the air and made your mouth water. You could see muffins, pastries, and cookies all lined up, waiting to be enjoyed. It was like a sweet and comforting welcome.
The people in the café always seemed happy. They were chatting with friends, enjoying their meals, and sipping on their coffee. It was a place where you felt like you belonged, where you could relax and enjoy good food and good company.
But what they were really known for was their coffee. They took a lot of pride in making the best coffee in town. It was like a warm hug in a cup, something that could brighten your day with every sip. It wasn't fancy or complicated; it was just really, really good coffee.
So, even though it wasn't a posh place, this café had something special about it. It had heart, and it had that welcoming feeling that made you want to come back again and again. It was a place where you could enjoy simple pleasures like good food, good art, and great coffee—all in the company of happy people and; that is my biggest weakness "Happy people", maybe because I have a sad soul.
As I waited, the tinkling of the bell that signalled the door's opening broke my train of thought, and I glanced up to see if it was Mr. Jaxon who had arrived.
- Writer
