True to her word, Eleanor was at her usual table by the window, where a large ficus stretched toward the morning light. Her stack of books sat beside her untouched tea, a heavy thermodynamics text open on top. When Marcus arrived, laptop and presentation materials in hand, he glanced at the titles.
"Light reading?" he asked, setting down his things.
"Just brushing up on first principles," she said with a slight smile. "Sometimes the most basic laws tell us the most interesting things about how systems work."
Marcus found himself grinning at the delightfully absurd image — someone casually reading thermodynamics over morning tea. Before he could comment, movement near the counter caught their attention.
A woman in a deep blue scarf was collecting her coffee, and as she turned, she caught Eleanor's eye. They exchanged warm smiles — Eleanor's gentle nod met with a small wave of recognition. The moment held a quiet joy that made Marcus glance between them curiously.
"Friend of yours?" he asked as he settled into his chair.
"Someone finding her own way," Eleanor said simply, then turned back to her book.
He'd been working for about twenty minutes when she placed her book down. "Your shoulders are climbing up to your ears," she observed.
Marcus started to say he was fine, then caught himself.
"Just notice the tension for a moment," Eleanor suggested gently. "See if it seems connected to any part of your project."
He hesitated, not sure how shoulder tension could possibly relate to market projections. But after a moment, he ventured, "I'm stuck on this section about the market analysis..."
"What feels unresolved about the analysis?"
Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then something clicked. "I need to look at the real data again. I've been trying to make the numbers say what the board wants to hear instead of what they need to know."
"Let's stay with that for a moment," Eleanor said. "What happens when you think about showing them the actual data?"
"It's scary," he admitted. "But... also relieving? Like part of me has been fighting to say this all along."
Eleanor smiled and returned to her book. Every so often, she'd glance up when his typing stopped or his breathing changed, but she didn't need to say anything. He was starting to notice these patterns himself. Occasionally they'd talk for a moment. She would encourage him to notice where the stress wanted to point his attention. He'd pause for a bit to feel it, then talk through the feeling with her.
They settled into a rhythm amid the bustle of the café — the whir of the milk being steamed, the chatter of other customers, the clinking of cups. At a nearby table, a woman with a lemon yellow journal kept glancing up from her writing, her own shoulders carrying a familiar tension. Eleanor noticed, her expression softening with recognition. Marcus didn't notice, absorbed in his work.
Marcus sat back suddenly. "Got it. Instead of downplaying the market challenges, I can show how they're actually highlighting exactly where we need to focus our energy."
"Look who's reading his signals," Eleanor said warmly.
She checked her watch then, gathering her books. "I need to head out soon."
"Would you be up for meeting Monday?" Marcus asked. "My presentation's tomorrow, and Thursday and Friday are packed with follow-ups."
"Monday works for me," Eleanor said, slipping the thermodynamics text back into her stack. "Same time?"
"Same time," Marcus nodded, realizing how much he was looking forward to sharing how it all went.
As they gathered their things, he noticed his shoulders felt different — not completely relaxed, but the worst of the tension had eased. He hadn't even realized when that had happened. On her way out, Eleanor caught the eye of the woman with the lemon yellow journal and offered a gentle smile. The woman's expression softened as she returned it.