DAPHNE

“So you’re going to make me ask?” Xana stares at me, a piece of lettuce dangling from her fork. “How was the Bahamas?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “It was fun, good. Lots of sun and sand. How was the lake?”

“Seriously? That’s all you’re going to give me?”

“I don’t know what else you expect me to say.”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe elaborate on what it was like to fly on a private jet, stay on a private yacht, and lunch at The Four Fucking ...