"What can you do in ten minutes?" The girl asked.

Corley's face was expressionless as he said, "Ever heard how curiosity killed the cat?"

"Sorry."

"Once the money's in your pocket, keep your mouth shut." Corley threatened.

...

After getting home and showering, Roseanne planned to review a few papers before hitting the sack.

Just as she sat down, she received a message from Corley.

[You left your gloves in my car.]

He attached a photo of the gloves. They were indeed the ones Roseanne wore that day.

It then dawned on Roseanne that she had taken them off after getting into the car because the heating was high. Corley had kindly taken them from her and set them aside.

She had forgotten them when she left.

[Can I drop by to pick them up sometime?]

Corley replied: [My house has a strict no-delivery policy]

[How about this? Let's grab a coffee sometime, and I'll return your gloves. I'm taking an MBA course at Kingswell University. Since you're an alum, if it's not too much trouble, maybe you could show me around and help me get familiar with the campus.]

Roseanne might not have agreed if Corley had only offered to return her gloves or invited her to a meal. Roseanne felt their acquaintance hadn't reached that level of familiarity yet. But with him asking for a favor, and considering she had forgotten her gloves, making it her oversight, she felt even more obligated. Given that Corley needed help with something she could easily offer. [Alright then]

Corley texted, [I'm free next Friday at 11 a.m. Does that work for you?]

Roseanne had no objections and sent an OK gesture in response.

...

On the day they had agreed, Corley parked his car and walked to the coffee shop.

The coffee shop was on a quaint street not far from Kingswell University.

The owner had a knack for decoration that appealed to the younger crowd, making it popular even on a Friday.

He chose a seat by the window. Roseanne arrived a few minutes later, and a waitress came to them with the menus as they settled.

The vintage record player filled the place with a soothing, foreign song, exuding a bohemian charm. Corley ordered an iced Americano while Roseanne went for a latte.

"Your gloves." He had packed the gloves in a brown paper bag.

Roseanne reached out to take them. "Thanks."

Corley looked around, the air rich with the aroma of coffee beans, the ambiance neither too cold nor too dry, utterly comfortable. "Do you come here often?"

Roseanne answered, "Sometimes."

Across the street, visible through the floor-to-ceiling window, lay a river, completely frozen over in the dead of winter. Bare willow branches drooped over its edges, draped in a fluffy layer of snow from the previous night. Sitting on a bench by the river on a bad day could be soothing.

Corley observed her expression, a slight smile on his lips. "Nice spot, even nicer music."

Roseanne stirred her coffee and listened as he said, "Miles Davis's jazz started in the '90s. Now it's a rarity to replace someone who knows this classic tune."

Roseanne looked curious. "You seem to know a lot?"

"Jack of all trades, master of none," he joked with a shrug.

Then, Roseanne remembered Cliff mentioning that Corley's mother was a renowned musician. However, Roseanne chose not to pry further and stopped there. As they finished their coffee, Corley stood up. "Let's go."

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