My sister hurled red wine across my dress uniform and told me I had no place in that ballroom, my father told security to get me out before I humiliated his future son-in-law, and I watched the stain slide over my ribbons, checked the countdown on my watch, and said, “You’re right. I don’t,” because in less than a minute the entire room was going to understand why I had really come.
That’s exactly why we brought extra copies of the warrant for the people in your call log.”
They escorted him across the vast ballroom while every remaining eye followed his pathetic, struggling form. He kept desperately searching the crowd for someone to rescue him—Arthur, Harper, even some of his billionaire investors—and found nothing but averted continue reading …
