You could blame a lot of things related to this cafe on her, at least this time. If it's not trying to rope you in to a private suite, it's shit like this.

[Ulrich was very adamant about not having that private suite thing happen. Damn attention hogger.

She looks to the assortment of desserts that were pre-made for today's shift.] Take your pick. Marmorkuchen, Rote Grutze, Apfelstrudel... wide enough selection to go around that you can't go wrong with any one of them.