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"I did a happy dance," Aela groused before she grabbed some nuts from the dish Aoife had set on the breakfast counter where we were all perched, watching her cook.
"You would," was my rejoinder. "I’m not even sure what’s going on with me right now. I’m… I think I’m just worried about Aidan."
"About losing him?" Aoife asked me, her voice soft.
Nodding, I took another sip of wine, feeling more brittle than I wanted to admit.
"It’s a fear we share," Camille said solemnly.
"I just got him back."
Inessa curved her arm around my shoulder. "They’re untouchable, Savvie."
I faked a smile and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "They are," I said brightly, but as my gaze tangled with Aela’s, I knew she was worried too.
Transitional periods were always dangerous, and the city had never been more volatile.
As I drank some more wine, my phone buzzed. Seeing who’d texted, in desperate need of liquid sustenance, I took a larger sip.
Paris:I’m in New York.
Me:So?
Paris:So?!
Me:SO.
Paris:You’re not still mad at me?
Me:Clearly, I am.
Paris:Sigh.
Me:So boring, isn’t it? Screwing your sister over when she made plans THREE times to have lunch with you and you ditched her for your latest squeeze.
Paris:Content is king. This reality TV show is sucking the life out of me.
Me:Boohoo.
Paris:I’m here now.
Me:So?
Paris:So. We can catch up. I’m worried about Mom.
Me:Why?
Paris:She’s being cheerful. You know what that means.
Me:That she’s stressed.
So, Paris wasn’t utterly self-obsessed. That came almost as a relief.
Whennoxxioushad announced a few tour dates for this December—something I was suspicious of because I thought they’d twisted Daddy’s arm for this exact reason—combined with my recent surge in fame,andCamden winning four Grammys, some of the TV networks had suddenly been interested in my sisters’ pitch for a reality show.
It was ludicrous seeing as all they did for a living was spend Dad’s cash.
Paris:Do you know why she’s stressed?
