“Lucy, could you get that table?”
I never could say no to Candace, even though it was not my section.
“Lucille.” I corrected her, for the fiftieth time. “See,” pointing to my badge.
“Sorry, Hon.” Everyone was ‘honey’ or ‘sweetie’ to her. But she meant it, so that was okay. “Could you help me out? I’m swamped.”
It was unusually busy for August. I think they …
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