Andrea orders without looking at the menu—she already knows the chef’s specialties because she used to meet Charles in the restaurant every week. She asks for a spicy seafood paella and a bottle of Bordeaux. She knows she’s not supposed to drink a lot, but a few sips won’t hurt the baby. The waiter rushes away to place the order.
She knows that Lance and Leonie’s table is direct across the room from hers. She can feel Lance’s fiery gaze burning into her, but she refuses to look at him. She daintily unfolds her napkin and places it on her lap.
The waiter returns almost momentarily. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Hamilton, but the paella you’ve ordered is sold out for the day. So is the wine.”
Andrea frowns and glances at the menu. “Okay, I’ll have the oysters and mussels,” she says. “And you can gi
