The director nodded his head. “That’s good,” he said. He’d triumphed, or at least Mario had triumphed for him. Getting what he wanted, he put his belt back around his waist, gave the two a quick smile, and walked off, leaving Mario and Miranda to work out their disagreement in the semi-privacy of the theatre’s back hallway.
“I can tell you’re still angry,” Mario was the first to speak.
“Oh, how’s that?” In spite of the animosity, she was subdued enough to be civil. She was far too weary to rant and rave and say all the nasty things she was thinking in her head.
“It’s written all over you,” he said.
“I can’t believe that you’d humiliate me in front of all those people. I can’t believe you’d do that.”
“You deny you deserved it?” he said.
“Yes!” She started to raise her voice.
“
