Chapter 40: Sweet and Sour
Wearing a short fur-lined jacket, Annie’s lips were painted blood-red. She waltzed in like she owned the place. On her arm was a guy I vaguely recalled—Joshua, I think his name was. Tall, muscular, smirking. Trailing behind them were four other guys, all loud and cocky, their laughter echoing through the diner like bad weather.
They slid into a booth in my section.
Greta was in the back with deliveries.
I took a breath. I could do this. Just stay professional. Be polite.
I approached their table, notepad and pen in hand.
“Good morning,” I began. “What can I get—”
Annie cut me off. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Emberfang Cinderella.”
I didn’t rise to the bait. “Can I get you started with some drinks?”
“I’ll have sparkling water,” she said with a smirk. “Make sure the lemon’s exactly three centimeters thick. I’ve got sensitive taste buds.”
“Coffee. Black. Two drops of cream,” Joshua added lazily, not looking up from his phone.
The rest chimed in with equally ridiculous orders—an omelet with the yolks of two eggs but whites of four, toast that had to be ‘golden but not crunchy,’ and pancakes cut into the shape of wolves.