Evening soon arrived and both Damian and Vanessa found themselves waiting inside the Copper Hound, something that never occurred in their past meetings with Lillian.
She was usually the one waiting excitedly on them, to share any new ideas she had come up with.
How the tables have turned...
But it didn't matter, they only needed her for her use again, so waiting a few hours meant nothing.
"Where the hell is she?" well, maybe it did mean something, especially to Vanessa.
"Calm down," Damian muttered, though his own knee bounced restlessly under the table.
He swirled the glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes moving to the entrance every few seconds.
Vanessa scoffed, folding her arms. "She's late on purpose. She was always desperate for our approval, but now she thinks she can keep us waiting?"
"It's fine," Damian said, still keeping his calm facade, "besides, it's not even eight yet."
