Can you get me about fifteen lobsters? And none of your Canadian garbage! I want European lobsters! I want them beautiful and blue. Purebred. Unless that’s beyond you, Cereal Killer…”
Tonight’s shift at the Palace has been beyond exhausting! I swivel on my chair behind the reception desk as Eric stands over me, typing furiously into his cell phone.
After a few weeks of working here, nothing surprises me. ‘About fifteen lobsters’? Who the hell orders something like that? And in the middle of the night! Eating lobster at midnight! What could be more classy?
Only yesterday, I would have been offended by such a request. But not today. In fact, I find it all pretty funny. Because I’m in a good mood.
Since my wine tasting sesh with James, I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. A soft and sensu
