Zane.
Somewhat impatiently, I started to drum my fingers on the counter of the kitchen island. The rhythmic tap-tap echoed in the otherwise quiet space, a small outlet for the restlessness prickling under my skin. We didn’t have all night to run through this, and the longer she took, the more I could feel my patience wearing thin.
Really, I knew this was a thing with all women, or most, but still, I would think she heard how much I emphasized not keeping the Richmond late.
We still had enough time, but only if she didn’t take another half hour doing something women do to take time.
The sound of heels clicking against the hardwood drew my attention, and I turned my head toward the archway. The glass of water I had been about to drink froze halfway to my mouth.
Well… well… well!
The
