Cara
"Please, Cara, let me take those," Demetrios says, trying to grab the stack of dirty plates from my hands.
I sidestep him and head into the kitchen. "Just doing my job, but thank you for using my name," I call back to him.
He sighs, grinning, and shakes his head.
I drop off the dishes, stick an order ticket in the line cook's window, and head back out front. I refill a couple mugs and stand for a moment, surveying the diner.
It's half filled with Greek soldiers and half filled with locals. The place has been bustling lately. I think it has something to do with Eros—somehow, word got out that his wife spends her time in this place, and everyone's coming by to try to curry favor with the lord's woman.
It's kind of nice. But mostly annoying.
Toward the back, Alonzo's sitting alone
