Chapter 133

• **Miranda's POV**
• I stood behind the counter of my restaurant, busy taking stock of the day's supplies when the door swung open. A sharp gust of wind carried with it the scent of expensive perfume. I looked up, and there she was—Desmond's mother, striding in as if she owned the place. Two women trailed behind her, both dressed to the nines, their heels clicking against the tiled floor. I plastered on my most professional smile, but inside, I braced myself.
• “Good afternoon, Mrs. Davenport,” I greeted her politely, setting aside my clipboard.