The need to embarrass me in front of everyone who mattered.
I grabbed my purse and headed toward the exit.
Then I heard Mr. Whitaker’s voice.
“Actually, Roy, I was going to save this for later.”
I stopped.
The entire room stopped.
Mr. Whitaker stood near the podium, holding the microphone loosely in one hand.
His expression remained calm.
Professional.
But I had worked with him for twenty years.
I knew that look.
Someone was about to regret something.
Roy laughed awkwardly.
“Oh? Well, don’t let me interrupt.”
Mr. Whitaker smiled.
“No interruption at all.”
