“Kayle, wait,” I thought I heard Laura say, but then the noise of the crowd drowned her out
I strode toward a diner that was mostly empty and tied Dali outside. He immediately curled up on the ground and fell asleep. Spoiled rotten mutt.
The minute I sat in the back next to the window, a menu was thrust into my hand and a glass of water plunked on my table before I could ask for it.
“Meatloaf special today,” said the teenager in jeans and a T-shirt with the diner logo emblazoned across the front.
I wasn’t fussy. “I’ll take it. And coffee, thanks.”
“Say, aren’t you that painter guy everybody’s talking about?”
I frowned. “Who’s everybody?”
The girl shrugged. “My folks and people their age. You some kinda big shot or something?”
Scowling, I said, “How about that meatloaf?”