Hewasatall,middle-agedwhitemanwiththebeginningsofapaundareghairline.Hisfacewasflushedahyred—probablyfromdrinking,Junthought—andhelookedlikesomeohhighbloodpressureandabadtempertomatch.
"Whyareyhere?Youarenotgoingbacktotheamusementpark?"Junaskedquietly.
"Onebeefnoodle?Gotit!"Reyarepliedloudly,hertonebriskandprofessional,asshejottedsomethingdowninhersmallnotepad.
"You''''retheonewhoaskedmetomeethere—"
"AndoneHongKongmilktea.Sir,willthatbeall?"sheinterrupted,stillkeepingupheract.
Shescribbledafewmorewords,thewoslipsfromthenotepad.AsshereachedouttotakeJun''''smenu,shedeftlyslippedoheohishandbeforeturningawaywiththeotherandheadingtowardthekittopcetheorder.
Junwatchedherwalkoff,thennoticedtherestaurantowillbythekitdoor—watgherlikeahawk.Heslippedhisphonefromhispocket,pressedthenoteagainstthes,aendtoreadhisphone.
"Igetoffinanhour.Waitformeinthebackalleyafteryoufiing."
Juncouldn''''thelpbutchuckle.Whatisthisgirluptonow?
Thenamuffledvoicecamefromthekit—low,angry,andclearlytheboss''''s.
"Youshould''''vetoldhimtoordersomethingmoreexpensive...''''tyouevendothatright?Iguessyoudon''''twanttopayoffyourde—"
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