I chuckle. “Well, I get it. Playgrounds are very important business.”
Lucy nods seriously, like I’ve just validated her entire worldview.
“Sadly,” I continue, “Shoreditch isn’t one of the areas I’m working in, so I can’t sneak in a last-minute swing set.”
Lucy sighs heavily, slumping back in her chair. “That’s so unfair.” She huffs and stabs at a chip, her playground dreams dashed.
“The only thing around here for Lucy is the library—we go there sometimes,” Theo says, running a hand through his hair. “And there’s a yoga class for parents and kids on Mondays in the studio just down the road.”
I blink. “You do yoga?”
He shrugs. “It’s a good way to stretch out. And, you know, not collapse from the stress of running a café.”
I shake my head, processing this new piece of unexpected information. “So let me get this straight. You’re a former lawyer, Viennese coffee house owner, and a yoga dad?”
Theo smirks. “Multifaceted.”
Lucy, still sulking about her lack of a playground, mutters, “He’s very bendy.”
I burst out laughing.
Theo groans, running a hand down his face. “Thank you for that, Lucy.”
She shrugs, completely unbothered. “It’s true.”
I shake my head, still grinning, but as I reach for my hot chocolate, I remember the actual reason I ended up here in the first place.
“You know,” I say, stirring my drink absentmindedly, “I actually tried yoga today.”
Theo raises an eyebrow. “Tried?”
I sigh dramatically. “I started with Yoga for Dummies, which was already pushing my attention span to its limits, and then I attempted something called a Sun Salutation and ended up in what I can only describe as a human car crash.”
He laughs. “Sounds dramatic.”
“Oh, it was spectacular. There was flailing. There was swearing. At one point, I crashed to the floor.”
Theo looks far too amused. “Crashed?”
“Listen, things happened, Theo. It was traumatic.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Sounds like you need proper instruction.”
I roll my eyes. “And where, pray tell, do you suggest I find this proper instruction?”
He smirks. “Well, funny you should ask. Some of us are very bendy and happen to attend a class on Mondays.”
I blink. “Wait. Are you inviting me to kids’ yoga?”
“Parents and kids practice separately,” he points out. “No kids required.”
I hesitate. “I don’t know…”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one, I don’t have a child.”
He shrugs. “Not an issue if you come with me.”
