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Mr. Templeton gave a mirthless laugh. “There’s a reason I came here alone.”
“Your wife wouldn’t…?”
He shook his head ‘no.’
“Alright, then. Come tomorrow night for dinner. 7PM.”
He looked hesitant.
“Will you come?” I asked, almost pleading with him.
After a slight hesitation, he nodded ‘yes.’
“Thank you,” he said.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I said, then turned and went back into the ballroom to begin one of the most epic campaigns of persuasion that has ever been waged.
