Chapter 35

When Melissa Thompson walked in alone and sat at a table for two, David came into the kitchen with a worried frown.

“I can’t stand to see her sitting there all by herself,” he fretted.

“So go sit with her and eat.” I shrugged. I didn’t have time to talk, what with all the last-minute prep I had to do.

We were serving a simple four-course meal—soup, salad, entrée, and dessert. Unlike a lot of the times when a few of these people had come for samplings and dry runs, tonight was a paying crowd. David and I were adding the receipts from tonight to the money we’d already donated to LGBTQ organizations with his check to me, just like we would with the profits of the gala.

So I wanted to give them a gourmet dining experience. Sure, I felt bad about Melissa, but I couldn’t talk to David about it right now.