"Um..." Asher pursed his lips, his head tilted slightly as he stared at the menu with the focused intensity of someone trying to decode ancient hieroglyphs.
"Sir?" The waitress stood patiently beside their table, dressed in the restaurant's crisp white short-sleeved shirt and black knee-length skirt, with a cheerful apron emblazoned with "El Catle" in flowing script. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her brown eyes held a mixture of professional courtesy and barely contained amusement as she watched the young man's epic battle with the menu.
Five minutes ticked by. The waitress shifted her weight from one foot to the other, pen poised over her notepad.
"Asher?" Natalia's voice cut through his concentration, gentle but tinged with secondhand embarrassment.
"Huh?" He looked up with the dazed expression of someone emerging from a trance.
She mouthed silently, "Make a choice," while gesturing subtly at the increasingly patient waitress.
