We smirk at each other. ‘I think you’ll live,’ she pronounces, setting her laptop on the floor. ‘I’ll be right back. I want to make sure he’s putting ginger and lemongrass in it.’ She pauses at the door and beams at me. ‘I’ll be back in a second to breathe down your neck once more. Enjoy your reprieve.’ I roll my eyes at her departing back. How the tables have turned. She’s definitely milking this situation to her full advantage.
