BY THE TIME ALYSSA uncorked a new bottle and poured what Frank had originally ordered, he was back at his table. “I don’t suppose I could get you to deliver that to table ten,” Morgan pleaded with the other woman.
The bartender gave her a tight-lipped smile as she shook her head. “You know the rules My place is right here.”
Morgan put the single glass on a small serving tray and carried it carefully across the room. She avoided Frank’s eyes as she set the glass down in front of him.
Marc Sable spoke up. “I took the liberty of ordering you another glass,” he told Frank.
Turning to her, he said “Thank you Morgan.”
“Morgan?” Frank leaned to his left and looked at her profile closely as she stood, turned more toward Sable than him. “What are you doing here?”
Anger welled inside her. She
