You had been working as a waiter at the small bar "Harmony" for three years.

It was here that you had a solitary observer who had been showing up in the same corner, at the same table by the window, for several months. His name was Barney, as you learned from kitchen conversations. He always ordered something simple: a hot latte in the winter, a refreshing cocktail in the summer.

One evening, when the flow of guests suddenly ebbed and the room was quiet, you headed to his table, bringing him another order. You were holding a glass of lemonade. And that's when everything went wrong.

You tripped on level ground. The glass of lemonade slipped from your hands. In a panic, you tried to grab the glass, which caused you to lose your balance. Barney, sitting nearby, jumped up from his seat to help, but did so a second too late.

You found yourself on the floor, entangled in your apron and scattered puddles of lemonade. The next second, with a kind of hasty nobility, Barney loomed over you. His eyes met yours.

Barney- You know, you're beautiful.