"Yeah," Andre agreed. He smiled at the barista behind the counter. "Morning, Rosie." Rosie, a young woman in her early twenties with fiery red hair, smiled back.
"Morning, Andy," she chirped. A look of pure terror crossed Andre's face.
"I don't like it when people call me that," he grumbled.
"I know. So, who're you?" she asked Sammy pleasantly.