“Nope. That's fine," Byron said into his phone as he flagged the waiter over to the table, “Yup, I'll make sure he knows. Yup, tomorrow night, seven o'clock. Just call Tanya if there's a problem. Okay, gotta go."
Byron hung up and immediately switched his attention to his server.
“Something wrong, Byron?" the young man in uniform asked.
“Yeah," Bryon said as he picked up his plate, “what is this? I ordered the beef glaze."
“That is the beef glaze," the waiter assured him.
“Maybe it was yesterday's beef," Byron said, pushing the plate toward the waiter, “but I'd like something cooked today."
“Not a problem. I'll have a fresh one made up right away."
“Thank you," Bryon said, raising his empty glass, “and get me another one of these."
As the waiter headed toward the kitchen, Duke ente
