James let go with a frustrated sigh as Lance scrambled for his phone, punching in Isabella's number with shaky fingers.
"Isabella, where are you?"
"Working overtime, sweetheart," she answered brightly. "What's up?"
Lance hesitated, then spun a white lie. "Feel like having dinner together? You mentioned craving roast duck last time. If you're free tonight, I'll make reservations now."
He kept his voice light and unconcerned, and Isabella's voice lit up with excitement. "I'd love to! But I can't leave early today. Lance, could you grab takeout from the duck place? We'll eat at home later."
"Sure."
No sooner had Lance hung up than James seized his forearm, fingers digging in. "Well?"
Lance remained silent, jaw clenched as he dialed the reception desk. He had to verify whether Isabella
