"Mr. Foster's in a meeting," Clain repeated respectfully, though his forehead was already dotted with sweat. Sophia was hard to please, and if she was upset, she'd probably smash stuff against him. Just imagining it, Clain already felt sorry for himself.
"You're lying! It's 10 PM! What kind of meeting is he in at this hour? Tell me where he went!"
Clain wiped his brow just as his phone rang. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the caller ID and said, "It's an international meeting. Mr. Foster's on the line..."
Sophia snatched the phone from him and answered, "Lance, where are you? Why aren't you coming to see me? I'm really not feeling well." After speaking, she shot Clain a glare.
Lancelot's voice came through, calm and detached. "You sprained your ankle? How's it now? I had Clain brin
