Chapter 125 The Campaign

• By the look on Andrew’s face at dinner, I knew that his meeting had not gone well. At first, he hardly talked, focused more on his food than on me. It made me worry about what was on his mind.
• I kept stealing glances his way as I ate, trying to will him to look at me, but he would not take his eyes off of his fillet. The silence was killing me, and soon my stomach hurt too much from the anxiety for me to eat. I swallowed my mouthful and set my knife and fork aside.
• “How was the meeting?” I finally dared to ask.