“Table for three?” Andrew asked, smiling through the fatigue of the shift. The man nodded and spoke before the girls could. “Yeah. Somewhere near the back.” His voice was calm, clipped. Authoritative. The girls didn’t say a word.
One of them—a brunette with freckles and a worn red hoodie—kept her eyes down. The other, slightly taller, hugged a navy tote bag to her chest and scanned the room in short, jerky glances. Andrew grabbed three menus and led them toward a booth tucked into the corner. It wasn’t exactly private, but it was the most secluded table in the café.