“Why ‘of course?’”
“Because, you know—"
“Tell me.”
“Well, put yourself in my place—"
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“Please stop interrupting. Who’s the client here? Who’s paying—"
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re doing it again. I hadn’t finish—"
She scrapes back the chair, walks out. I close my eyes, rest my head in my hands.
“And ... Hold it there. Marcie, come back please. Daisy, good. Marcie, how did that make you feel?”
I hold my breath. Will she tell people about last night?