The waiter took their coffee orders—cream and sugar for Lena, black for Victory—and handed them menus. Instead of heading into the kitchen, however, he disappeared into a side office after promising to come back for their orders.
“Off to warn Fabbri already,” Victory said. “And I was actually hoping to enjoy dessert before things went to hell.” Just because her body couldn’t gain any nutrients from regular food didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the sweet stuff on occasion.
Lena stared past Victory, her lips pursed. “Don’t be too offended, but I don’t think he recognized you. It was probably the blue light when you walked in.” She closed her eyes. “And speak of the devil. Looks like we don’t even get our coffee tonight.”
Victory twisted in her seat in time to see Emily Fabbri marching across
