Chapter Eleven
Daniel gripped his arm, “Let me introduce you. He ran the gamut of names, then gesturing to Cassandra. This is...”
Jon interrupted him, “We’ve already met.”
He looked at her with such a cold stare that she felt as though she’d turned to ice, and blinked back tears. There was silence for a moment as the atmosphere chilled, then he turned his back on her, and began talking to someone else.
Beryl whispered, “You’re a dark horse. Weren’t you just telling us that you were out of touch with the theatre?”
“I am,” Cassandra quivered, her eyes fixed on Jon’s back.
Daniel shrugged, and patted Jon’s arm. “How’s the book coming along? Your ghost-writer tells me it’s nearly finished.”
“We should be,” Jon added, his tone was light but his face was cold. “I’ve spent thirty hours yap
