“Open it,” I said.
Linda stepped forward, clutching her designer tote so tightly the leather bent under her fingers.
“Brandon, what is going on?”
He ignored her. His eyes stayed locked on mine.
“Natalie,” he said carefully, “you’re making a scene.”
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“Open it,” I said.
Linda stepped forward, clutching her designer tote so tightly the leather bent under her fingers.
“Brandon, what is going on?”
He ignored her. His eyes stayed locked on mine.
“Natalie,” he said carefully, “you’re making a scene.”
The towel slipped through Daniel Mercer’s fingers before he was ready to let go of it. For a second, he thought the room had…