A waiter approached where Lena and Grayson sat, a polite smile on his face. “Good evening. What would you like to order?”
Grayson didn’t even look at the menu. “Bring a bottle of Le Montagne.”
Lena blinked. She’d never heard of that wine before, but she didn’t ask. It wasn’t the wine that made her chest feel heavy, it was Grayson’s cold tone.
The waiter nodded and turned to leave, but Grayson’s voice stopped him.
“And an extra service,” he added.
Lena froze. Her heart dropped like a stone. She turned to Grayson, her eyes wide with shock and hurt. But he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was on his phone, fingers tapping like she didn’t even exist.
Lena wasn’t stupid. She knew what “extra service” meant in a club like this.
The waiter bowed slightly and walked away, leaving Lena starin
