Paula s ScarChapter 1
I had wrapped up meetings with clients and prospects, so before heading back to my apartment on the upper west side I decided to stop for dinner. My path took me close to the Capital Grille near Grand Central, so I stepped inside. The hostess got me seated and handed me a menu, and a bus girl filled my water glass. I scanned the menu and was approached by my server. "Is the spit-roasted chicken the only poultry on the menu?" I asked. "Yes -- it's very good," she replied. "I don't...