Thea proposed Wednesday dinner at Kora House, where Nina and I had once tested whether coffee could become a date. Familiar territory gave Nina an independent history with me, while the public room protected Thea from entering our private routine.
All three adults confirmed separate transportation, a six-thirty start, plus an eight o'clock review before any one-on-one continuation. Nina agreed without promising emotional ease, and Thea repeated that her invitation contained no scheduled kissing.
I arrived eight minutes early with printed menu notes that nobody had requested. The packet contained allergy options, seating possibilities, transit departures, plus three conversation subjects selected for equal participation.
The absurdity became visible only when Nina entered and saw the folded pages beside each water glass. She wore dark jeans beneath a red blouse, while one eyebrow rose toward the section labeled `neutral openings`.
