Glass case-counter encased in wrought iron. Case hold fresh baked goods from ever variety.

We don't sell the alcoholic beverages before 3:00 PM.

Dressed in a light blue shirt with a pair of black jeans and white sneakers. Trip leans against the counter as he read his magazine, he looks up and around. Most people would have been gotta fustrated from having no custromers. Though he knows they will come with time. He don't want to rush anything, rushing always ruins it all. He rubs a hand over his dark hair and stretches. He works out the kinks in his bones and pulls back his arms. Far from tired, he can't say that he'll ever be tired here.

This is his one thing that can be even a little normal, he love his shop. Being here keeps him grounded, not that he needs it. He shrugs his shoulders before glancing over the page of his magazine he was on. These stars today, so much drama. He thinks simply as he pulls back from the counter and closes his magazine. He takes it off the counter and places it away. He turns and looks around the shop. He could be cleaning it off a little while he have some free time. Dusting, mopping, sweeping. All for my baby. He rubs his finger over the glass counter before wiping it clean with a clothe.

He stuffs the clothe into his back pocket before moving along the counter. He then notices the coffee machine may need a little dusting. He moved and wipes his clothe along it. Wiping away the dust and stepping back. He inspects it once he's finished and smiles. "Great." He says to himself as he stuffs the clothe back into his pocket lettign it hang out a little. He yawns a little and looks towards the door. He rubs a hand through his hair and decides that he should just close the place up for tonight. He have shopping to do anyway, have to get ready for the Solstice Ball. He moves from the counter and moves towards the entrance.

Trip moves to the counter and sighs softly. He loves his shop, it's like the only thing he have. He wishes that he could just not worry about anything. Just stay where with his lovely shop. Though his friend is in pain and well everything just seems to be not in anyone's favor right now. He guess he is good to just stay out of all of this. He doesn't know how long that will last, he isn't evil. He just knows that evil isn't final, someone can come back from evil so he thinks. So why do they fight, because it is all that they can do. Fight for power, fight for soemthing. He should fight for what he believe in.

Though what is that? Fight for women? Booze? Naw, so don't have that ring. He shakes his head at himself and takes his clothe out of his back pocket and starts to clean at his counter once again. He won't be satisified until he can see himself in the surface.

Jordan moves farther into the shop, taking in her surroundings. A small smile graces her lips. The calming effect of the shop seems to already seep into her body and offer a very welcome relief. Although truth be told, this is no surprise. Miss Stone has always had somewhat of a fixation with coffee. And now working at the newspaper, it seemed to be the one thing that kept her running when she was on a deadline.

(Not that that's a healthy habit, but there are worse things.)

Finally her eyes come to rest on the man at the counter. Offering Trip a small smile in preliminary greeting, the brunette witch takes a few steps forward to close the gap between herself and the counter.

"Hello."

The words are soft. Jordan is tired, and while her body may not show it, her eyes and her voice do.

Trip moves along his counter cleaning at the surface and smiling once his handsome face can be seen in the surface. He moves his clothe away and stuffs it back into his back pocket. He turns starting to check all the inventory. He don't usually get many custromers this late, most are at lunch hour or the morning. He checks the coffee machine and makes sure it's running correctly. He hears the door opening and soft footsteps. He turns and sees the beautiful woman and remembers her from the many times she have come here. Ususually rushing and all. He looks her over moving back up to his counter and offering her a smile too.

His was charming and welcoming. He offers a slight yawn of boredom and then looks back to her. "Hey there, how may I help you?" He asks as he moves up to the counter to stand before her. He wonders what's her name and if she's single. He was looking for a date to take to the Ball, though should he take a stranger. Well, come on this is Trip. He would take a homeless woman if she is a looker. Though this woman definately isn't homeless.