"George Whitman—" A bespectacled, overweight, silver-haired man in an ill-fitting but expensive suit stood up, extended his sweaty palm and smiled at her. "—Is your legal team on the way, Ms McBride?" "No," Eden shook his hand firmly and walked to the end of the table where Liam sat, took an empty glass and poured herself a shot, stunning everyone with her boldness. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Liam cast a hush over the room with his loud growl, and for the longest minute in history, Whitman and his team looked painfully uncomfortable. "Don't start with me, Liam! You summoned me here bright and early. I didn't even have time to eat. I'm hungry as fuck, so just don't!" She warned him softly as she took her glass back to her seat and sat down across from Whitman. His colleagues exchanged bewildered looks, and he was equally ill at ease as he took off his glasses and set them down. "Ms McBride, in my email, I stated you should bring
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