There Was No Seat for Me at the Luxury Restaurant. By Dessert, They Regretted It

hobbyist. Not the polite condescension of phase.

“James,” I said, managing something that was approximately a smile back. “I didn’t know this was your place.”

“It says O’Sullivan’s on the sign,” he said. “We’re not subtle.”

“I always assumed that was coincidence,” I said, moving closer. “Like how some people are named Baker and can’t cook.”

He laughed continue reading …