Lynn's POV

The private dining room is beautiful. Candlelight. Wine. A table set for two.

It feels like an interrogation room.

I sit across from Grayson. Don't touch the food. Don't pretend this is romantic.

"I need to know about Michael Bolton."

The words come out flat. Direct.

Grayson's hand tightens around his fork. Knuckles white. "What about him?"

"Your attitude. Your position. What happens now that I'm here."

He sets down the fork. ...