"Fresh croissants?" the door jingled as another patron stepped inside, dripping rain from their coat. "Of course, sir. We've just taken a tray out of the oven. They're ready to go." "Excellent, Isabella. There's nothing like the smell of buttery pastry on a dreary day." She smiled, her hands moving with practiced ease as she handed over a small paper bag. "And if I may suggest, a slice of our lemon drizzle cake? It's a special today." "Ah, the temptation! But perhaps another day, my dear. Croissants will suffice." "Very well, sir. If your day improves, do come to visit again." "No doubt it will, once I've savored each bite. Thank you, Isabella." He left with a promise to return, the scent of croissants trailing behind him.