She glared at him. “What am I doing here? I’m following you, of course. The question is, what are you doing here with this . . . this woman?”

Persephone gasped at the naked hatred in her eyes. “John, who is this?”

“Who am I?” Freddie asked, outraged. “Who are you?”

“I . . . I . . .” Persephone sputtered.

“Freddie, please,” Jake tried in a fierce whisper. “You’re making a scene.”

“Shut up,” Freddie snapped, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “Who are you? What is your name?” she demanded of Persephone.

“P-P-Penny,” she stammered.

“Penny?” Freddie echoed. “Is that your name or what you charge?”

“Freddie, stop this,” Jake demanded, but the headwaiter had already arrived.

He glowered his disapproval. “I’m sorry, miss, but you have to leave.”

“Why do I have to leave? They’re the ones in the wrong,” Freddie insisted.

“You’re disturbing the other customers,” the waiter said, taking her gently by the arm.

She shook him off. “Don’t touch me. I don’t care about the other customers. These two are disturbing me. Do you know what he promised me? Do you have any idea? And now he’s here with her and I—”

“Don’t make me call a policeman, miss,” the waiter said sternly.

“Freddie, just go. I’ll come to see you later and explain everything. This isn’t what it seems. It’s just . . . it’s business. She’s a client of mine.”

“A client?” she scoffed. “I thought you must be a client of hers.”

Persephone gasped in outrage but no one paid her any mind.

“Come along, miss, before I have to get rough with you,” the waiter said even more sternly.

Freddie turned to him and burst into tears. “He promised me.”

“Men are cads,” the waiter said, taking her arm again. This time she didn’t protest and allowed him to escort her out.

For a long moment, no one broke the tense silence. Then the other customers apparently decided the show was over and resumed their private conversations, although the topic now was most certainly Freddie’s little display.

“I’m so sorry, Persephone,” Jake said, sinking back into his chair.

“Who was that woman?” she asked in a fierce whisper as if afraid of drawing attention again. “Oh dear, now I sound just like her!”

“She’s just a girl I know.”

Persephone was not placated. “Plainly, she is more than that to you.”

Jake tried his most sincere expression. “But it’s true. I hardly know her, but for some reason she decided she was in love with me.”

“You must have given her some encouragement.”