Lana sat in the cafe, her heart beating fast. She had chosen this place because it was far from her office. The usual nuisance—her lover being a coworker—made it necessary. Usually, their communication was an exchange of texts or mediated by a wedding planner who handled the logistics of their high-profile union. But today, Elara had called. She had insisted on meeting face-to-face.
When the bell above the door chimed, Lana's breath caught in her throat. Elara arrived exactly on time, but she looked different today.
She wasn't wearing her usual perfect suits. She wore a black shirt with the sleeves folded up, showing her strong forearms. The top few buttons were left open, exposing the hollow of her chest. Her formal pants and shoes were unchanged, but her long hair fell over her shoulders in unkept, messy waves. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed.
