WESTON

“I'm glad you could finally show up, Mr. Vaughn.”

She smiles but it’s clearly hiding her frustration… or attempting to. Her hands are clasped tightly in front of her, her petite shoulders squared, her chin jutting out slightly.

“What? No coffee to throw at me this time?” She’s clearly not amused by my comment. “Some of us have important work to do that can’t just be rescheduled. My mother told you I was running late, didn’t she?”

“That doesn’t excuse it. All the other parents managed to make it on time.”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I, Miss…?”

“Flowers, Daphne Flowers,” she says. “You couldn’t even attempt to pretend to...