Timothy followed the movement of the receptionist who had carefully sat down the bowl of fries and the cup of tea.
The way the fries was plated made it look more like something out of a café than a simple snack. Golden brown, still steaming lightly, with just enough salt dusted on top to make anyone's mouth water.
Timothy reached forward, picked one up, and bit into it. Crispy outside, soft inside. He nodded. "Delicious."
He turned slightly toward Hana, holding the bowl closer. "Want some?"
Hana shook her head quickly. "We should conduct business now, Mr. Guerrero. Mr. Reyes already said it's time."
Timothy smirked, picking up another fry and holding it out toward her. "Just one bite. Come on."
Her eyes darted to the fries. For a split second, Timothy caught it—the tiny glitter of interest in her eyes, the way she lingered just a moment too long. He raised an eyebrow knowingly.
"You want it," Timothy said lightly.
