There was a small table open at the back of the diner. It was far away from the bustle of traffic, but would offer him a good view. He filled up a coffee at the self-serve station, grabbed a newspaper, and headed to the table. The coffee was the wake-up call he needed—black and bitter—and the newspaper would serve as cover.
“What can I get you?”
He recognized that voice without even looking up.
“What are you doing here?” He stared at Andrea.
“Trying to take your order.” She waved around a pad of paper and pen.
“When did you start working here?”
Andrea laughed, and Josh wondered what joke he’d missed. “I don’t really. You just looked hungry.”