“Sophie,” I say.
“I’m establishing the facts,” Sophie says.
“You’re establishing them loudly.”
“Because the facts are loud,” she says.
I sit back in the chair and rub one hand over my forehead.
“I told Diana everything.”
Sophie’s expression shifts. “Everything?”
“Everything,” I say.
“The market. The wine bar. The hotel. The reservation. The additional course. All of it.”
Sophie leans back, and for a second, she looks less theatrical and more worried.
“What did Diana say?”
“She’s letting me continue under strict rules,” I say.
“Only the anonymous meal counts. Anything after that is context at most. Extra fact-checking. Full separation between the review and anything personal.”
Sophie studies me through the screen.
“Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I say.
Sophie’s mouth tightens. “Serena.”
“I can.”
“You are the smartest person I know,” Sophie says, “and you have spectacularly bad judgment about this specific person. I need you to hear me.”
I look down at the cream card beside my laptop.
“I hear you.”
“No, you’re listening politely,” Sophie says.
“That’s different.”
I lift my gaze back to the screen. “I hear you.”
Sophie exhales.
“Good. Then meet him if you have to, but don’t go in there pretending this is just professional. It isn’t. Not anymore.”
“I know,” I say.
“Do you?”
“Yes,” I say. “That’s the problem.”
Her face softens. “I don’t want him getting into your head.”
