Harold's POV
Alistair didn't waste a second finding the closest restaurant. Given how late it was and safety being a priority, he naturally picked one of our establishments.
I'd already given the restaurant manager a heads-up, so the moment our car rolled up, he rushed over with a smile, pulling open our doors.
"Mr. Bailey, Miss Hale, everything's prepared. Right this way," he said.
No unnecessary chatter. Everyone was completely focused on getting Phoebe fed as quickly as possible.
When I sat down at the table with Phoebe, she looked absolutely stunned by all the steaming dishes laid out in front of us.
She understood that with just one word from me, my people would move heaven and earth to make things happen.
But she seemed genuinely baffled about how such an elaborate spread could be ready in such a short time.
The restaurant manager caught her confused expression and beamed. "Miss Hale, anything else you're craving?
