Chapter Five
For the next two weeks I waited for Ellington Lloyd to confirm our activities at the Morrow Seafood Grill. The two times I was in his presence, however, no mention was made—not that I expected him to say something in front of other people. I did expect him, at the very least, to give me a wink or the nod of his head. There was none. In all the weeks of our surreptitious game playing, as nervous as I’d become, I was never so nervous as I was waiting for him to acknowledge our relationship.
Then one afternoon, exactly two weeks following the Morrow incident, Ellington came to my cubicle himself.
“Miss Sinclair, we’re going to need to talk. Monday in my office.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I think we have some important matters to discuss.”
“I imagine we do,” I said, fully honoring his
