“Grr.”
I end the call.
Then, feeling bad, I text:
Me: I’m sorry if I got someone into trouble
Maxim: They deserve to be in trouble
Maxim: You will see Misha at the event. He’s going to be there as a guard. He doesn’t like you
Me: How can he like/dislike me?! He barely knows me
Maxim: You are dangerous, Victoria. Haven’t you realized that yet?
No, I haven’t. WTF?
Maxim: I have to go. Tell me when the real dress arrives.
Me: Will do
I pout once the conversation’s finished, unsure if it reassured me or attained the opposite.
When I pop into the living room, my brows lift when I see how cozy Wynter and Shay are as they discuss constitutional law.
Her blush pricks my curiosity when she notices my presence. “Shay says you’re going to NYC tomorrow?”
“Yup.”
“Would you mind dropping me off in the city?”
“Sure, but doesn’t your family live in Jersey? What’s it called… East Orange?”
“West. But that’s fine. I can catch a train and then a cab.”
I tsk. “I’ll drop you off. You can keep me company on the ride over.”
Shay nudges her. “See? Told you she wouldn’t mind.”
Though I arch a brow at the pair of them, I snag Wynter’s chips, grab the textbook I was in the middle of reading before a certain delivery driver showed up and stressed me out, then dive back into the text on alternative dispute resolution.
Or at least, I try.
Wynter’s presence on the drive down will be a welcome distraction from being introduced to Manhattan’s elite…
Is New York City ready to knowme?
Somehow, I doubt it.
TWENTY
GIRLS JUST WANNA RULE THE WORLD
LATER THAT SAME NIGHT
Victoria: I’m so sick of this already. I need my beauty sleep!
Wynter: What did they want this time?
