“Sir, this is coming from my manager. He’s asked me that if you’re to return, you’ll need to be a little more conscious of the other guests. Otherwise, we can reserve a private room for you.” “Of course, not a problem.” We won’t be returning. Olivia is breathless and trying to regain her composure but ends up yelling, “How was the chicken?” at the top of her lungs before falling into fits of giggles again. “However, if you have the name of the person who sold the edibles, I’d love to get their details,” he whispers.
