Fraser had left us with his driver, Marco, a tall, rather scary looking man who never smiled. We stopped at the café opposite the hotel for breakfast to plan our attack. I looked over the menu, finally deciding on a breakfast with the works. Eggs, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms and hash browns. I ignored Dane’s chuckle as I ordered from the waitress. “And a coffee. Oh, and a juice,” I added, blushing. The waitress smiled and turned to Dane. “And you?” She asked, batting her eyelashes. Her voice, which only a moment ago had been dull and bored, was now full of sugary sweetness as she gazed down at Dane. I fought back the urge to poke her skanky eyeballs out with my fork. “Uh, blueberry pancakes, please. And a coffee,” he handed her the menu, looking uncomfortable with her attention. He turned his attention back to me, “what’s the matter Lil? You’re not jealous, are you?” He chuckled, raising his eyebrows.
