Clara spun from customer to customer, offering drinks and a bright smile. She must keep her cheerful facade up, even minutes before her break.
At last she ducked into the poky closet where the waitresses were allowed to sit and rest. Then she noticed the strange little man.
She recognized him—he'd been at the bar for hours, staring into brandy he never drank.
He smiled at her as if there was nothing odd in his presence. "Cup of tea?" he asked. Then he produced one, steaming, apparently from his pocket.
This man was a mystery she had to solve.