Chapter 8They made it in time.
The Kafe was the best restaurant in town, and warm-hearted Kaye, its owner, was a long-time, older friend of Blaze’s. John, the night receptionist at the front desk, greeted them with a smile, pulled two menus, and led them to a table. He was probably forty, prematurely gray, and dressed in the restaurant’s uniform of black slacks and a green golf shirt with the company logo over his heart.
“Sorry Kaye isn’t here. I have a gift for her,” Logan said.
“That’s thoughtful of you,” John replied. “She comes in super early to be sure everything’s ready for the day and the staff is coming in as scheduled. She’s rarely here evenings, but you can probably catch her tomorrow.”
Blaze said to Logan, “We can have breakfast here, if you’d like. Or lunch, if we sleep in.
