watched the reservation switch—smiled openly.
“Welcome back, Ms. Clara. You look… really good.”
“I feel great, Sarah. Thank you.”
James greeted me with a hug that smelled of pressed linen and expensive cologne. He studied my face, searching for grief, and found only ease.
“VIP room?” he asked. “The Chef’s Table is open.”
“No,” I said, smiling. “Just the
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