James
I’d told Francis I would be late in this morning, anticipating an extended morning following Charlotte’s first birthday with us. However, my mood is very different from what I had expected. The pleasant start to the morning has in no way dulled my anger at the previous day’s events.
I check my watch then pull over to make a call. “Francis? I’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you please have Kirstie waiting for me.”
She sounds startled. “Kirstie?”
“Yes, Kirstie. The new concierge. I want her waiting there when I arrive.” My voice is sharper than I intend.
“Yes, James. I’ll see to it.” The phone rings off.
Memo to self: be especially polite to Francis for the rest of the day….
As I exit the elevator, Francis, flat-lipped, eye-points me to the waiting Kirstie. As she sees me, she h
