Re: Innies!
Wren tossed her menu. It slid across the booth into Radek’s empty seat. Screw pie if he wasn’t around to salivate over it. She was getting red meat. She swept her black hair into a ponytail and began to twist the length. “I’ll have the bourbon bacon burger, rare. But like rare, as in stick it to the health department rare, and fries and a Coke, light ice. Tweed jacket over here wanted coffee and pie.” The man had not been wearing a tweed jacket, but Wren would bet her Uber tip there was one hanging in his closet. It was the unofficial uniform of academe.