"Just this last couple months," she said, cautiously. "Are you... are you a regular?" She avoided saying, 'you look familiar.' It was not like her to not notice a face that came by more than twice, or was otherwise distinct, but she was starting to question her own senses lately. She moved a step or two away to give herself room to think, and put her hands on the back of the chair facing him, dropping her eyes to the sticky bun and then to him, oddly anxious to see if he approved. She pulled at the red apron; it had a nametag in the top left corner: IRIS.