"Mr. L, you have an appointment at 9 am with the model. Meeting with the board at 10. You have a lunch meeting with Mr. Hudson about the furniture. A free time for two hours. At 3 pm you need to go to Villa Conscasia. At 5 pm, early dinner with Mr. Fidel and his wife."
Nodding my head, I silently looked at the food in front of me. It was a plain meal. My fucking day revolves around this. Every single day felt like torture.
I can't remember, that's a fact. My father said that we had an accident. But they couldn't tell the details of their story. It was weird, it felt weird. Like there's a missing piece in me which I couldn't point out.
"That's all?" I answered, confused on why my schedule Is quite free today.
Guineverre smiled, placing down her notebook in the table. "Yes, sir."
