“You’re pretty. Are you Mrs. Reeves?” I clear my throat uncomfortably with a nervous flush pooling in my cheeks. “Thank you, sweetie, but no, I’m not Mrs. Reeves. My name’s Elena.” She tugs me closer and cups her hand around my ear as if to tell me a secret, and she very loudly whispers, “Mr. Reeves thinks you’re pretty too, ‘cause he won’t stop looking at you.”
