Andrew weaved between tables like a ghost, careful and invisible. His coworkers—faster, louder, bolder—snatched tables before he could blink. “Next one’s yours,” said Marie, the shift lead, without looking up from the espresso machine. It was a rare concession.
He nodded, muttering a thank you she didn’t hear. He took a spot near the host stand and waited. The bell over the door chimed, and in walked six people—four men, two women, all laughing loudly, the kind of laughter that filled a room before they even sat down.