Elizabeth sat in the conference room of the hotel and sipped from the glass of lukewarm water in front of her. She’d met with eight different men, each attempting to astound her with their business acumen. They all held MBAs and explained how they would increase profits and decrease loss.
She didn’t like any of them. Profit-and-loss statements she understood. She didn’t need help with that. Something else was missing, and she didn’t even know the right questions to ask. Normally in this situation, she’d call Keith. Doing so now, though, would tip her hand. She still wasn’t ready to let him know her plan.
She didn’t know how long her vacation charade would last, but she hoped long enough to prove she was on the right track with the bar.
When a soft knock sounded at the door, she cringed
