Novela Cafe Social Reviews นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Shannon thought to herself as she observed her surroundings. In reality, the cafe was once owned by a European mafia that Ezra knew personally. It's a cafe upfront, but its primary purpose was for money laundering. It was used to keep their fraudulent money in and the nosy authorities out of their business, but the owner didn’t expect that the cafe would be doing well on its own, and is even getting more profit than they had foreseen. Their customers mostly consisted of people from high society, and occasionally, match-making and blind dates for the rich and the famous. They catered through reservations only, and it was barely accessible to ordinary people, so they decided to let it become a

And sit for a while on the nearby couch to wait for my order. My attention was drawn to a shelf here in the Cafe with piles of magazines where the cover was her, Avianna Alejandro. I don’t know but I stood up and took a copy of each different issue of such magazines to make sure I would get an idea about the woman that I can’t even stop myself from thinking, I paid for it and went back to my seat. I suddenly remembered what happened last night, fvck! She's good, damn it. I can still feel her soft lips on mine. And I want to taste it again ... I want to claim her again. So when I got my ordered coffee, I immediately left the cafe and got in my car, back to my house.

“Let’s get this man to move out of his shop.” Both of them headed toward the shop. A few miles away. At Lucia’s cafe. Lucia was distributing Elena chocolates for free to all the customers and asked for their honest review. Many customers grew accustomed to the cafe, so they gave genuine reviews. Lucia was noting down all the positive and negative feedback. “Out of the eighty customers that reviewed, sixty one are positive. Seven are neutral, and the rest are negative. This is better than I expected. We might have a winner.”

she whispered to the waiter when he returned to her table with a mug of iced coffee for her. "The best you can find out here," the waiter noted, and slid his hands into the pocket of his white apron. "Anything else?" "No," Sasha nodded in response. The waiter walked away to the next table to receive their order. The beauty of a cafeteria always resides in the bond between every customer and the seat they chose to sit, she thought. Gently, she opened her laptop and began a stream of consciousness, writing anything that crossed her mind whether or not it made sense. She paused on several occasions to observe the environment. The two men sitting across the right end were lost in their conservat

He was the one who fell in line at the counter, while I was here at the table to take care of the twins. The cafe had a cozy ambiance. I'd never been in such a place before since I’d been staying in the house for most of my life, which is why I couldn’t help but survey its entirety in a daze. It exhibited classic interior designs that complimented the colors of brown and black paint everywhere. Behind the counter was a row of shelves filled with books. I could smell the scent of the old-aged pages and even the classical inks from where I was seated, and it honestly brought excitement to me.

I got up lazily and saw that there was no one else at home; under the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen there was a note from Rafa, saying that there was coffee ready in the microwave for me and that she and Pedro preferred to let me sleep a little longer. I opened the said and found myself with a juicy slice of lemon cake topped with whipped cream, my appetite was instantly whetted; I sat down and started to nibble on that delicacy while noticing how the house seemed bigger, silent and empty; I hated being alone, and I hated more the sense of worthlessness I felt at that moment knowing that they were both working and I was sitting there comfortably like a scum of socie

The scent of roasted beans wrapped around us, grounding, warm. I accepted mine and took a long sip. “Well,” I muttered, looking around the wrecked café, “gourmet coffee in the middle of a disaster zone while it’s still raining outside.” I raised my mug. “Just perfect.” Colette snorted, bumping my shoulder lightly with hers. “Right? This is exactly the ambiance I was going for. Very… post-apocalyptic chic.” I grinned. “I’m giving it a five-star review.” She rolled her eyes but laughed, finally relaxing into the chair beside me.

Marcus Stakeouts are a bastard. Long stretches of nothing, punctuated by heartbeats that could end your career. Or your life. Today is one of those. The café is ordinary by design. Mismatched chairs, chalkboard menus, a barista with a host of piercings pulling shots at the machine. Outside, the air smells faintly of rain on concrete, the street slick and gray. It’s the kind of place Elena would consider safe, respectable, unremarkable. Exactly what Sophia predicted.

“In my spare time, I usually have coffee and listen to music at the café on the first floor of Wiltspoon Hotel. It helps me relax. If I were in Annenburg, I would go to The Meeting Ground, which is co-owned by my sister-in-law and her best friend. “The Meeting Ground has great business. They’ve opened two or three branches now, but the main store is still the most popular one. Many people go there for my sister-in-law and Ms. Jennings, who’s the missus of the Ormonds.” Elisa enjoyed listening to the love story of Remy’s big brother. She said, “When I’m free to go to Annenburg next time, bring me to your sister-in-law’s café. How does it compare to Wiltspoon’s Beans and Cream?” Remy had also

Cecilia's pov The café tucked away in the alley was the kind of place you'd expect to find struggling novelists nursing lukewarm lattes and existential dread. Exposed brick, mismatched furniture, faint jazz humming through old speakers. It was cozy, low-profile--perfect for staying off the radar. Too perfect. Like someone designed it to feel non-threatening. That only made me more tense. We'd been waiting forever. Or at least that's how it felt. I stirred my third cappuccino, watching the foam collapse in slow motion.