I Was About to Marry My Mistress, 30 Years Younger Than Me.
“What exactly do you know about this, Rebecca?” I demanded in a stern whisper.
“We cannot discuss this out here,” she replied nervously, glancing around.
“Why on earth can we not discuss it right here?” I insisted.
She subtly pointed her chin toward the bride’s suite.
“Because there are far too many ears listening to us right now.”
I looked around the busy hallway.