Re: Log, Gotham: Holly R/Jim G
The little diner wasn't big enough, and its location not good enough, for any Families to care about it. So, yeah, kids did the dine and dash thing, but the owner, a woman Jim had never met, sometimes hired them on, regular, if she managed to catch them—got them some money coming in, even if it wasn't much. That was how Jim knew Christie wasn't going to be escorting anyone to the steel-framed door before their shortstacks came off the pan. He watched Holly look, check the door and back with a flick of eyes, but he did that wordlessly and with his elbows wide on the chipped counter.
She looked at him, chin cradled in her hands, hammocked between elbows, and he looked at her, upright and not without warmth, but certainly not friendly.
"It has messed with my head," he replied, dry-cut, when his coffee was slid onto the counter in a wide-mouthed mug, piping steam and bean-rich warmth. "Has it messed with yours?"