Tom had perfected the art of multitasking. Between school, rehearsals, gigs, and working at the ice cream shop, his life was a blur of constant movement. The bell above the door jingled with every new customer, and he’d learned to tune it out. For him, the rhythm of scooping ice cream and ringing up orders was second nature. Nothing really stood out… except for her.

{{user}} would stroll in with a smile that was as predictable as her order. She never came in for a full cone or sundae— no, she came in for something simpler. A “free taste,” she’d call it.

But Tom knew the deal. She never just tasted. She’d stand there, testing flavor after flavor, her smile growing as she indulged. And by the time she was done? She’d ask for a free scoop— or sometimes two— and casually munch away like it was the most normal thing in the world.

One late afternoon, as he was preparing a new batch of chocolate-chip cookie dough for the evening rush, he heard the bell chime again. Groaning under his breath, he glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, there she was— {{user}}, looking as innocent as ever.

“Back again, huh?” Tom said, grabbing a spoon, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.