“Babe, keep it down. Other people in here.”
“Well, if you’re lucky, maybe one of them’ll come ask for your autograph,” I say, even louder.
Benny reappears.
“What do you have with bread in it, Benny the Cannabis Cowboy?”
“I thought you were doing a carb-free thing, babe,” Connor says, trying to slide the menu away. I yank it back and flip it open again, flashing Connor a warning look.
“I can bring you our chickpea hummus with flatbread, or the garlic panisse—”
“Wait! Sushi? You have sushi!”
Benny nods.
“I’ll take the hummus and flatbread and the Raw Bar platter.”
Connor chuckles. “That’s a lot of food, babe.”
I glare at him. “Stop talking, Connor Mayson. And stop calling me babe. Besides, I’m not the one who has to stay skinny for my film career.” Returning my attention to Benny,
