Kopano walked into the café, and his nostrils instantly welcomed the aroma of different, freshly brewed coffee beans. Not to mention the tea herbs wafting in all directions, as if fighting for their spot in the coffee crowd. The atmosphere inside was warm, cute, and welcoming, unlike outside.

The rain was pelting, and Kopano stood there in his dark navy suit, wet. His expensive shoes, which you could tell by their strong, brown leather, survived stepping on puddles of water, running for shelter here.

‘Need a towel there, sir?’ a tall waitress asked behind the counter.

Kopano quickly ran his eyes up her face, and his breath caught.

She was wearing pink lipstick that was not dark by any measure. You could miss it if you were not looking attentively like other men out there. But Kopano was not like other men out there. He saw how it accentuated those full lips, that were in arcs because of the smile she was giving him. The dimple on her left cheek was hard to miss. The ring on top of her nose reflected the soft lights above, and the eyes boasted a nice, dark mascara that wasn’t gothic, but could be if a little bit more was added.

‘Yes, please. I am wet.’ Kopano stood in front of the door and was afraid to move any further in fear of messing the whole place up, by leaving a trail of water.

‘Coming right up,’ the waitress said, vanishing behind the door that was written in red, bold letters: ‘Staff Only’.

Kopano took this opportunity to look at the place.

It was his first time here. He had always heard of it but had never tried it before. The patrons were many inside, but it was clear that it was not a full house. The rain outside could be the reason, or the simple fact that it was Tuesday at two in the afternoon could suffice. People were at work. They had no time to be sitting at cafés, drinking coffee with biscuits, not in this Cyril’s economy, unless you were the fortunate one per cent of Braamfontein, like Kopano.

Some had their MacBooks out, typing away, while on the far seat, a young man, probably in tech, judging by his clothes (a hoodie over his dreadlocks, shorts, and slick takkies), was listening to music on white earphones that were trailing from his ears and plugged to his laptop, bobbing his head.

Kopano chuckled at the last observation.

‘Here,’ the waitress said, offering the brown towel.

‘Thanks.’ Kopano quickly wiped his face and head, then ran it over his neck, on top of his bleach-white shirt. He lastly wiped his shoes on a mat that he hadn’t seen before on the floor.

‘You can sit over here.’ The waitress led him to a small table of two near the window.

How did she know he was here to meet someone? Kopano asked himself, quickly handing her the wet towel and thanking her.

‘Coffee or tea? But you look like a tea type,’ the waitress said with that huge, genuine smile of hers that Kopano had come to associate with her.

‘Why? Is it that obvious?’ Kopano smiled at her after taking a seat.

‘Hmm, yes, if you have the experience in the business like I do.’ The waitress smiled back.

‘Which is?’ Kopano was interested to know.

‘Well, first, you seem to be in no hurry. When you came in here, although it is pouring outside, you didn’t run to the counter, asking for the towel. You just stood there, waiting for assistance, and I had to ask if you needed a towel. Second, you are in an expensive suit at this time of the day, but with no laptop bag, meaning you want to relax. Those are few of the many tells of a person who drinks tea.’

‘Wow!’ Kopano laughed a little. ‘So, people who drink coffee are the opposite of all of that?’

‘Yes, they love the adrenaline, so they need caffeine.’

Kopano considered this and couldn’t help himself but nod in agreement. ‘You’re good, I give you that. Make it a hot tea with two spoons of sugar, please. And God, please, no milk!’

The waitress laughed. ‘No, I will bring the kettle so you can serve yourself. The rain is still pouring outside, so you will be here for a while.’

Kopano looked out through the window, and again, she was correct. He was flabbergasted.

‘Will that be all?’ the waitress asked with a satisfied smile. Clearly, she knew she had made an impression, and Kopano didn’t miss it, except. . .

‘No, your name.’ Kopano smiled at her.

She blushed and her face turned pink. ‘It’s Fifi, Refiloe.’

‘Well, Fifi Refiloe, it’s nice to meet you.’ He extended his hand to her, and he enveloped her small hand, shaking it gently.

‘Coming right up,’ Fifi said, trotting away behind the counter, to log his order. While tapping on the computer, she raised her head and smiled at him.

Kopano smiled back and took out his phone to check the time.

She was late.