On my way, I suddenly thought of spitting in the tea, it would be a perfect payback for what she did to me. Then decided not to. If Linda noticed it, Ms. Rita would get in trouble and I didn't want that.
Entering the room, I found Linda sitting at the table, scrolling through her phone. Alexander sat opposite her, his head buried in a magazine, looking as annoyingly calm as always.
Neither of them looked up as I approached.
"Here is your tea," I said, flatly, setting the tray on the table.
"Finally." She dropped her phone and picked up the teapot, but immediately put it down. "Why didn't you tell me it's hot? You almost burned my fingers," she spatted, observing her long, delicate fingers with a deep frown.
"I'm sorry about that…" I apologized, though it wasn't purely from my heart. She deserved it anyway.
"Cold."
Cold? I looked up at her, confused.
"I like my tea cold," she repeated.
