I was so angry that I thought I might shake apart from it. I clutched my hands into fists and gave Logan my fiercest growl. Here we were, arguing in the middle of this nice restaurant. I had only wanted to help him, and now I looked like an ass.
I wanted to leave, maybe find a place to eat that didn’t charge an arm and a leg for a sandwich. My stomach gurgled. Hunger made everything worse.
Logan seemed to have noticed. His gaze softened marginally, before he looked away and dabbed at his face with the napkin.
“Go home, Hazel. We’ll speak at the office, tomorrow.”
“Monday, Sir,” I corrected. “It’s the weekend.” I wanted to make sure he didn’t actually want me to come in tomorrow.
“Right. Monday.”
Glancing at his empty table, I had a feeling like I shouldn’t leave him there like this.
