She wasn’t Maya. It was glaring.
“You don’t have time for the meeting, so I rescheduled it to next week Monday. You have an early dinner with the Masts by six, and I booked a venue for you. They couldn’t give four tables, so there’s an extra seat.”
Brogan wasn’t listening.
“Do you have anything you wish me to add?”
Brogan didn’t hear.
“Sir?”
Her voice sounded a little too loud for him not to igniter and Brogan glanced up at her. For that second, he forgot she wasn’t Maya and wanted to ask her if she valued her job.
But she did it better, and held no grudges, so he simply nodded.
“That’s fine. Let me know if there are any changes. Thanks for the reservation.”
She nodded and left.
Maya would have said something riddled with sarcasm. About how it wasn’t professional to postpo
