Sorry about this one too. Wow, it’s been weeks!
Leander didn’t know the woman in front of him, but she clearly already didn’t like him. Her lips were pursed, her brow was furrowed, and she was thrusting a very tall stack of cloth at him.
He took it, noting that the woman was also attractive, older than Sylviane but younger than Mr. MacDiarmad (at least in general appearance), un-collared (unsurprising) and strawberry blonde. Also, she was as tall as he was.
“Thank you?” he tried. In theory, the breakfast table should just be a couple feet away. But there was an angry woman and a pile of cloth — no, a pile of cloth and now she was handing him two bags too — between him and food.
“I am Mr. MacDiarmad’s personal assistant. I am not personal shopper to his staff. Certainly not to Miss MacDiarmad’s staff. If you have any confusion on the matter—” Continue reading