“There’s nothing to grovel for.”
“Okay. Not having this conversation. Call me when your head is screwed on properly. I love you. Goodbye.”
My jaw dropped and I stared at the phone.
The bitch just hung up on me.
******* ********
“Ms. McCartney, you’ll be dining in one of the private rooms upstairs. Please follow me.” The host led me up a short flight of stairs and toward a white door with gentle gold embellishments. “Someone will be along for your order shortly. Your drink is waiting for you.”
“Thank you.” I waited until he disappeared before opening the door. The room was empty—which meant my client was late. Fantastic. Just what I needed.
I pou
