Agatha Shay Britney Dutch ((hot)) -

Britney finally looked up. “If he ghosts, I’m billing him for my time. And my pie.” She gestured to the untouched slice of cherry on a saucer to her left. “This is emotional-support pie.”

Dutch stepped in — not tall, but somehow taking up all the space. He removed his sunglasses even though it was 11:47 at night. His gaze swept past the counter, past the jukebox, and landed on their booth.

Britney pushed the pie toward him. “You’ve got two minutes before I eat that myself.” agatha shay britney dutch

“He said midnight,” Agatha murmured. Her voice was low, the kind that made waiters lean in.

Shay stopped shredding paper. “Dutch isn’t late. Dutch is deliberate .” She glanced toward the back booth where the man himself usually held court. “Which means he’s either testing us or ghosting us.” Britney finally looked up

Agatha tapped her fingernail against the chipped menu, her eyes scanning the diner’s late-night crowd. Across from her, Shay was busy tearing a sugar packet into a tiny pile of crystals, while Britney scrolled through her phone with the exhausted concentration of someone avoiding three different conversations.

Dutch smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile. “This is emotional-support pie

Agatha almost smiled. Almost.