THE MOORE’S HOME
“Did it stress you out that much?” Owen asked Bryson, his eyes dancing in amusement.
Bryson took a long sip of his whiskey and sucked his teeth. He still wasn’t over his last visit to Chantelle. Her reaction had gotten on his nerves, and he had to keep it under wraps to avoid commotion. “Of course, it did. I almost couldn’t pay attention to the road, concerned that something must be wrong. I have heard things going wrong at her stage, but the lady has more fun than required. I do not appreciate that at all. She is getting on my nerves.”
“If you ask me, she did nothing wrong. The maid panicked, and according to you, you expected the lady to let you in on anything that seemed out of place. She just did as expected.”
“Are you on my side or theirs?”
“Don’t be pretty.” He
