Melinda didn’t know the other woman, but she remembered her from last year’s charity raffle where she had sold the tickets and had won that exceptional date with Bryn. Bryn had only spoken positively of the date, and straight off that made Melinda like the other witch. “Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place, then,” she chuckled; it was a silly joke, but the truth nevertheless.
Following the woman’s gaze to the Quidditch cake, her smile brightened. “A Quidditch Cake? Sure, she said, and pulled the tray of cakes, cut into bite sizes for tasting and placed it on the counter between the two of them. “Would you like to try one or do you already know which one you’d like?”