Trina yel ed to the cook as she hurried into the kitchen at Boyzie’s, a busy strip joint, to grab her next orders. “You stil waiting, she’s stil waiting, he’s stil waiting.” Louie stood at the gril behind the order pickup counter flipping burgers, tossing spice into his fast-boiling sauce pot, mumbling his complaints with a filthy towel flapped over his broad shoulder. “Everybody’s waiting. Everybody wants it yesterday. I only got two hands here!” “For real?” Trina said. “And here I was thinking you couldn’t possibly be a mere mortal. Just send it out, please. I should have been off duty ten minutes ago!” “Hey, girl,” Jazz said to Trina as she hurried into the kitchen with her tray in hand, too. “You’re slow tonight, Louie,” she yel ed with a grin, knowing he hated to be rushed. “I got yo’ slow right over here, Jazz,” Louie said, brandishing the spatula. Jazz looked at Trina. “What you stil doing here? I thought you was off at ten.” “I was.
