“Hey, Archie.”
“Hi.” He smiled back at Preston.
“The one with no bun is mine.”
“I know, Captain.” Archie set it in front of him.
“Call me Ames.”
“Justice likes bread…Ames.”
“That I do.” I took my plate.
“He likes French fries, too. Dawn said to tell you she held your fries with the bun.”
Though I smirked, Preston frowned at that. “I would have eaten the fries. I’m allowed one carb a day.”
“Oh.” Archie bit his lower lip. “I could get some.”
“Whose are those?” I asked, nodding toward the huge plate of thick-cut, hot enough to hiss potatoes left on the tray.
“Mine. It’s my lunch break. Dawn gave me a double helping. Hey.” Archie’s face lit up. “I can share.” He pulled over a chair.