DAPHNE

“You are not going to believe who I had the misfortune of speaking to the other day.” I toss my yoga mat on the floor of Xana’s living room, rolling it out. “You remember the guy from Paris?”

She pauses, clicking through workout videos on YouTube to look over at me. “The one you scalded with the coffee?”

“I didn’t scald him; that sounds dramatic, but yes, him. The one who refused to let me on the plane because he owned the airline. Turns out, he was ...