There Was No Seat for Me at the Luxury Restaurant. By Dessert, They Regretted It

a direct manner that had no patience for the performative modesty of people who know exactly how good they are but pretend otherwise.

“Wanda,” she said. “I’m glad he finally put us in the same room. I’ve been trying to get your number for months.”

“My mother keeps forgetting to pass messages along,” I said.

She looked at me with the expression of someone continue reading …