Wow. Lars’s grandma didnotmess around.
I take another sip.
The world suddenly feels softer. The edges blur.
Damn it. Why is my alcohol tolerance so tragically low?
“This place is amazing!” Daisy exclaims, a pink whipped-cream mustache on her lip as she waves a cookie shaped like an arrow. “We should do a musical! Silas, you’d be the Beast!”
“I’m not singing, Daisy,” Silas sighs, wiping her face with a cotton-candy-pink napkin.
“But you have a baritone voice! It would be sexy!”
A giggle escapes me. I cover my mouth with my hand.
“What’s so funny?” Cohen whispers in my ear.
“Silasissexy,” I snort. “But you’re sexier. Even though you have that… that…” I search for the word, gesturing with my mug. “…trouble face.”
Cohen laughs and pulls me closer. “Are you already tipsy, Sloane?”
“I’m… sparkly. Like champagne. Or like this radioactive pink whipped cream.”
I rest my head on his shoulder.
I feel light. Happy.
The sound of the door opening breaks the spell.
The others walk in.
Brenda and Steve scan the place with disapproval and isolate themselves in a corner, disinfecting chairs.
Behind them: Tiffany and Brent.
And right after that: Sarah and Joe.
They don’t sit down right away.
I see Sarah spot Tiffany. It’s like watching two sharks recognize each other in the ocean. Sarah approaches the Royals’ table, waving her hand to show off her fresh manicure and diamond.
“Oh my God, Ilovethat fur!” Sarah squeals, touching Tiffany’s coat. “Is it real?”
“Obviously,” Tiffany replies, eyeing Sarah.
Absolutely disgusting.
Anger floods my chest.
How is the sale of real fur still legal?
I feel furious and helpless every time I’m confronted with something like this.
But… Cohen and I are going to win.
And I’ll donate my share to a good cause.
I’ll make sure those animals don’t go unseen.
