Aria

I almost let out a yawn, the real kind, not the polite, “I’m trying to be engaged” kind, as Sierra’s luxury car hummed down yet another overpriced street.

She’d insisted we stop by a designer’s studio. Insisted so hard it made me think this wasn’t about fashion at all. No, there was something she wanted me to see at that designer’s place. Something intentional.

But right now? I was dead tired. I’d stayed up texting Ellen, trying to help her figure out how to collect ...