Once everyone had their coffee and snacks, Diane leaned slightly forward. She held her cup in one hand, pretending to sip, and let a carefully timed movement cause the hot coffee to spill over her other hand.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, more loudly than necessary, letting the sound carry across the table. "Hot… it burned me!"
James spun around instantly, his calm demeanor replaced by immediate concern. "Diane! Are you okay?" He hurried toward her, hands ready to help, eyes sharp with worry.
Diane allowed herself a tiny smile, just enough to make him focus entirely on her. "I'm fine, just… a little spill," she said, holding her hand delicately, as if the moment were accidental but significant enough to pull his attention.
Hope froze for a second, tilting her head as she noticed James' complete focus on Diane. She handed the last pastries to Anita and Samuel, trying not to let the tension disturb her composure, though inside she cataloged every glance, every flicker of expression.
James knelt slightly, dabbing at Diane's hand with napkins. "Careful next time. You could have really burned yourself," he said softly, his focus unwavering.
Diane's eyes met his, gleaming with triumph. She didn't speak, but the message was clear: I'm here, and you're paying attention.
Hope exhaled quietly, a subtle smirk playing at her lips. Drama doesn't need words, she thought. It's all in the execution.
The room hummed with quiet conversation as the group settled back into their seats. Coffee cups now in hand, pastries eaten, the tension lingered—but underneath it all, Hope couldn't help but notice the delicate, unspoken dynamics forming between James and Diane, while she herself remained calm, observant, and unflustered.
And Diane? She leaned slightly back, satisfied. She hadn't made a scene or embarrassed herself, but she had done exactly what she intended: drawn James' full attention, subtly, without needing to say a word.