At that same hour, two men sat in a private dining room on the second floor.
Ethan James crossed his legs, glancing at the half-empty bottle of red wine in front of the man across from him, and raised an eyebrow.
"Nate, you've gone through half a bottle and haven't touched a single dish. Word gets out, people are going to think my restaurant's food is garbage."
Nathaniel didn't rise to the bait.
He loosened his tie, fingers curled loosely around the wine glass, swirling it before taking another slow sip.
"Something on your mind?"
He was, in fact, deeply preoccupied.
That night still haunted him a nightmare he couldn't shake. A week had passed, and she hadn't reached out. It sat in his chest like a bomb waiting to go off. He was terrified Claire would find out.
Does she think I'm di
