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I smile into my glass.

Yeah, this feels pretty fucking good.

“Enjoy it while it lasts.”

I don't have to turn around. Only one person in my employ can make a statement like that sound like a threat.

“Myrna.”

“Mitchell.”

I glance over.

Myrna is dressed like she's headed to a reunion special for one of those Housewives shows Carolina likes to make fun of.

Or used to.

Before I sent her away from my corporate office and lost her permanently to Dane Barret and the Carolina Rovers.

Not that I'm bitter.

I have three assistants for a reason.

Had.

Whatever.

“What do you want?” I ask.

Myrna arches one perfectly drawn eyebrow.

“What makes you think I want something?”

“You walked over here.”

“So?”

“You hate parties.”

“So do you.”

“Exactly. Which means neither one of us would willingly initiate a conversation at one unless absolutely necessary.”

She sighs.

“Sometimes I miss when Carolina had to deal with you.”

“She's happier now.”

“She is.”

“So am I.”

“Liar.”

I take another sip of scotch.

“Why are you here, Myrna?”