After fielding a few questions and making nice with the board members, I placed my papers in my satchel, grabbed my jacket, and started to head out of the conference room when Stuart stopped me in the hall. “Amia, we need to talk.” Stuart stood in front of me with his hands in his pockets. I could tell by his demeanor that he was nervous. “Is everything alright? Did you have questions about the campaign?” I pulled the strap of my satchel over my shoulder as I awaited his reply. “I need to see you before you have to go back. We have a lot to talk about. Can I pick you up after work and take you out? Show you around Glasgow? I would like to cook for you, if you’re okay with that?” He rambled as he spoke. It was as if he were afraid that if he didn’t say it all at once, he would lose his nerve, and never say it. “Sure, Stuart, I would really like that. You’ve always talked about your cooking and working under Chef Ramsay, so I want to see just what you’re capable of doing. There’s no need to pick me up though, I’ll have Jeffrey bring me to your place around seven.
