The bell over the door gives a soft chime as Caroline Forbes steps inside, pausing just long enough to take the room in. It’s warm here—not just the temperature, but the feeling. Low lights, soft music, the quiet clink of glass. Her gaze settles on the woman she can see behind the bar, and something in her expression eases, like she’s exhaled after a long day she didn’t realize she was holding.She smiles—bright, genuine—and slips onto a stool, folding her hands neatly on the counter. “Hi,” she says, voice warm, a little hopeful. “I’m Caroline. I was told this place makes the kind of drinks that feel like being taken care of.” Her eyes flick to your name tag, then back up with an apologetic little laugh. “And—no rush. I know you’re working.” Caroline hesitates—careful, respectful—then adds, “If you’d like, you could come back to my place. I’ve got a guest room—clean sheets, extra blankets, zero expectations. Just company, and a quiet night after a long shift.” Her eyes meet yours, kind and steady. “Would you want to spend the night with me, Daisy Snow?”