“Em rushed by with an armful of greasy plates. “What gives?” he called after her. “Who knows? There’s one booth left in the corner, if you move fast.” He looked around and found it, the booth in the corner, and moved fast across the sweaty bacon-and-toast air to sling himself and his camera bag along one cushion. Em scooted over and set a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice on the table, almost without stopping. He drank the coffee first, hot and crisp. You had to hand it to Bo...ylan’s. Best coffee in Back Bay, if you liked the kind of coffee you could stand your spoon in. He leaned against the cushion and watched the hustle-bustle. A lot of regulars this morning, a few new faces. Em and Patty cross and recross the linoleum in patterns of chaotic efficiency, hair wisping, stockings sturdy. Outside, the pavement still gleamed with the rain that had poured down last night, shattering the heat wave in a biblical deluge, flooding through the gutters and into the bay.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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