Before long, the coffee and tea were served.
As Amelia Cobb lifted her coffee cup, she glanced through the glass door of the cafe at Christopher Robinson, who was outside taking a phone call.
The man was dressed in a white short-sleeved shirt that day.
Stripped of his formal attire, he appeared less sharp and more gentle.
The man had one hand on his phone and the other on his waist.
He must have heard something amusing as he smiled softly, looking down at his phone.
One didn't need to hear him to know his laughter was likely hearty and pleasant from the look on his face.
Maybe sensing Amelia Cobb's gaze, the man outside the window glanced back.
As their eyes met, Amelia slowly looked away.
A hint of disdain was evident in her lowered eyes.
Yes, disdain.
Lydia Shire noted this correctly.
When Amelia's gaze had shifted away from Christopher Robinson, it was heavy with contempt.
Feeling this scorn, Lydia tightened her grip on her cup.