BENEATH THE LIES
They’d called me an intruder, and now look who was walking out with the boss.
In the hallway, we ran into an older woman, maybe in her sixties, with a kind face and gray hair pulled back. We stopped short, and Stanley smiled. “Mrs. Allison, this is Alora, my fiancée. Alora, this is my assistant, Mrs. Allison.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Allison,” I said, shaking her hand.
She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Nice to meet you too,” she said, then nudged Stanley playfully. “I must say, you’ve got good taste.”
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