The Sinclair Penthouse smelled of acai bowls and expensive gossip.
Damien had left for the office hours ago, leaving the space to the girls. Aria was sprawled on the oversized white sofa, wearing a silk robe and a sheet mask that made her look like a serial killer in spa mode. Zoe was pacing the living room, holding a half-eaten croissant and looking like she was about to crack a government code.
"I'm telling you, Aria, I'm being gang-stalked," Zoe insisted, pointing a crumb-covered finger at the window. "Yesterday, I was at Starbucks, and this guy in a windbreaker watched me order. He didn't even buy a coffee! He just stood there, looking at the menu like he was memorizing the calorie count of a cake pop."
Aria peeled the mask off her chin to take a sip of her smoothie. "Maybe he was just indecisive, Zoe. You know how the menu is."
