At 18, Tisha found herself in Milan, wandering cobblestone streets and ducking into espresso bars the way most people breathe. The ritual of it captivated her: the sound of the machine, the thick dark pour, the way strangers stood together at marble countertops and shared something wordless over a small white cup.
She came home different. She carried that dream like a well-worn leather journal—always with her, never quite finished. The dream of a place where coffee was more than a caffeine delivery system. A place where every cup was a small, deliberate act of welcome.
That dream never left her. It just waited for the right moment and the right partner.