“Come in,” Ms. Griswold steps aside and lets me into her presidential suite.The room is enormously large. While I’m still carefully studying the layout of the room, Ms. Griswold already walked past me to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a scotch.“So,” she takes her seat and crosses her legs, “Why do you need to see me?”Her eyes are full of distant. She doesn’t even hate me. She just thinks that I’m a dirt that doesn’t deserve her time and attention.“Well?” she urges me. “Hurry. I don’t have all day.”So I speak, straightforwardly, “Call off their marriage now.”She pauses for a short moment, and then burst into a booming laughter. She laughs so hard that her scotch spilled out.“Oh dear, oh dear,” she shakes her head still laughing. “Are you coming here to beg me? If you are, at least give me the proper attitude, like crying, pleading, dropping to your knees?”“I’m not here to beg you,” my jaw tenses.Yet she carries on as if she didn’t hear me, “Your mom was really good at i
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