Ashton stifled a snort.
After that intel, Ashton and his team quickly headed for the arcade level and the café.
“Hello, folks. How can I help you?” the host – whose name tag indicated he was the manager, one Bill Cane – asked as they came through the door.
“We’d each like a cup of coffee and one of your excellent Danishes,” Ashton said with a friendly smile. “I hear Mr. Bronze highly recommends them.”
“Oh yes.” Cane beamed. “Mr. Bronze orders a pot of our café special dark roast and a cheese Danish every morning. Maybe not like clockwork,” the manager laughed, “but he never fails. I’m glad to hear he’s passing word on to his friends.”
“Oh, definitely,” Ames said, taking Ashton’s arm in a subtle claim, thereby making them look to the manager like a couple plus their friends; behind them, Weaver and Compton grinned, not bothering to hide them. “Mr. Bronze was very complimentary. We decided to swing by on our way to meet up with some more friends for a fun little outing, and have breakfast here.”
“Of course. Well, you’re more than welcome; our morning rush has slackened a bit, and Mr. Bronze isn’t likely to call down for Sherry to bring up breakfast for a couple more hours. What would you like?”
“Mm. How about a pot of the house blend coffee, and an order of Danishes apiece?” Ashton suggested, glancing at the others, who all nodded.
“Anything else for you?”
“Not right now, no.”
“Excellent. Let me just ring that up for you,” Cane said.
The manager totaled the charges, and Ashton paid for it in VR, putting it on their expense account. “You folks just pick a table and have a seat and I’ll have Sherry bring out your coffee and pastries in just a moment. Do any of you want cream or sugar?”
“Both, please,” Ames noted.
“I’ll take cream,” Compton said.
“Black for me,” Ashton said.
“Me too,” Weaver agreed.
“Very good. Just relax and enjoy yourselves, and it’ll be right out.”
“Here you go!” Sherry the waitress declared cheerfully as she stopped at their table with a tray, setting down cups, cream, and sugar before pouring each a piping hot cup from an insulated pot. She sat the pot in the middle of the table, then passed around plates with two cheese Danishes apiece. “Does that look good?”
“It sure does!” Ames declared eagerly. “Thanks!”
“I hear tell you guys heard about us from my best customer,” Sherry said, and Ashton smiled.
“We sure did. Joey Bronze is well known to me and my friends here.”
“You can say that again,” Weaver agreed. “If he likes it, you know it’ll be good.”
“Hee! Every morning he calls down and has me bring up a fresh pot, and a whole platter of pastries, usually the cheese Danishes, though he likes the strawberry too, when they’re fresh in season. And I get it all together, and when I get there, he’s either watching the news on the screen, or his favorite soap opera, depending on what time of the morning it is.”
“Ha! Which soap?” Ashton wondered with a laugh.
“Days of the First Empress,” she chuckled. “He loves that show!”
“I bet!” Compton laughed.
“He tips really nice, too,” the waitress told them. “Sometimes, if he can tell the breakfast rush was pretty hectic, he even invites me to sit down at his breakfast table and rest. He’ll get an extra cup and pour me some coffee, and we’ll talk until he has to leave on business. He’s amazingly attentive to me; he seems to always be able to tell what kind of day it’s been.” She cocked her head. “It’s odd, though…usually he ends up drinking from his own cup, and I drink from the café cup. No idea why he does that.”
The foursome steadfastly avoided looking at each other, but Ashton sent one word through the VR private comm channel. “DNA.”
“What’s that scoundrel been up to lately?” Ames asked then, stirring the cream and sugar into her coffee before taking a sip.
“Oh, nothing much, the last few days,” Sherry admitted. “He just finished some big gig for one of his top clients, so he’s resting up, and he’s expecting an even bigger one to come along soon.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Weaver observed in VR.
“No,” Ashton agreed in kind. “Somebody else in the Palace, I’d bet.”
“I wouldn’t bet against you.”
“Yeah, we heard,” Ashton noted. “We’re sorta here under a false flag – we’re planning a surprise party for him, to celebrate the gig completion.”
“Ooo, that’s nice! I’ll be sure and not give it away,” Sherry said with a grin. “…So anyway, when he’s done with breakfast and I leave, he just goes down to some pub where a lot of his business contacts go to find him, and waits for another commission to come his way. It must be so wonderful to be an artist.”
“I…suppose so,” Ashton agreed…though his tone was rather ambiguous. I guess some people might consider his work ‘art,’ but I’m damn sure not one of ‘em, he thought, carefully hiding disgust.
“Um, since you’re his friends and all, I was wondering…” Sherry began rather uncertainly, “Is Joey, um, attached? Does he have a girlfriend, or a significant other, or anything?”
Ashton blinked. Of all the things I might have expected, that sure wasn’t one, he thought in surprise. She’s interested in him. In Joey Bronze, of all people. Poor girl. She couldn’t have picked a worse man to notice.
“I…I think,” he began, and cast a questioning, almost desperate glance at Cally Ames…who rose to the occasion.
“Oh, honey,” Ames murmured, taking the little waitress’ hand in a gentle grip and patting it, “if I were you, I wouldn’t go there. He’s
