CHAPTER 118: A Dangerous Game
The air crackled with unspoken tension as I settled into the seat. George held my gaze for a beat too long, a hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes. He gestured to the menu with a flourish.
"Go on then. Take your pick. My treat, of course."
"Why did you ask me here, George?"
He chuckled, a rich, warm sound that would have meant something if I didn't see through him. "Relax. No need to play the interrogation game just yet. First things first, a good meal, good company. Then, perhaps, we can delve into the mysteries that plague your mind."
He raised a hand, catching the waiter's eye. "Excuse me, could we get a bottle of your finest Pinot Noir and a moment to peruse the menu?"
The waiter, a young man with an eager smile, nodded and scurried away. As he disappeared around the corner, I slammed the menu shut with a decisive thud.
"Mr Harris," I began, my voice firm. "I'm not here for a game. What did your message mean?"