CHAPTER EIGHTY

ELLA'S POV

Mr. Donovan's slow smile spread as his eyes searched me. "Who would have believed we'd cross paths again in such a manner?"

I tensed, swallowing hard as unease prickled my skin under his stare. "So I see you're working here," he remarked.

My mouth felt dry as I forced out a stammered, "Yes."

Mr. Donovan's gaze sharpened. "Did you happen to be the server who waited on us yesterday in the VIP lounge?

Panic surged through me, but I forced myself to meet his stare evenly. "Yes, that was me."

"Excellent." He laced his fingers together atop the table. "Then you must have overheard part of our private conversation as well."

My breath caught in my throat as the implication hit me. They knew. But how?

Forcing a tight smile, I shook my head. "No, sir. I simply dropped some plates by accident which caused a loud noise. But I didn't hear anything from inside the lounge."

Mr. Donovan's smile only seemed to widen further. "Is that so?" He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved his