As soon as I parked my car in front of the restaurant, I turned off its engine and glanced at Sandy who acted as if she didn't realize we were already at the restaurant. She was just focused on her phone, smiling at whatever was displayed on her screen.
“We're here,” I announced and she just spared the restaurant a one-second glance before looking at her phone and tapping on it.
“Hm,” she said.
I sighed. “What's got you smiling like that?”
“Oh… it's Mr. Flintwood.”
At the mention of his name, my appetite left. I glared at the phone and then at her. I was trying to understand why he was making her smile the way she was doing.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked and she dropped the phone. Finally.
“We exchanged numbers after he left your office and we spoke before you came into my off
