drop off my chin onto the gold-rimmed plate I’d been too humiliated to eat off of an hour ago.
Marcus came back down off the stage. He didn’t hurry. He walked through the standing, clapping room and he came to table fourteen, where the servers had to turn sideways to get past, and he held out his hand.
“Come on,” he said. Quiet. Just for me. “You don’t continue reading …
