Sophie arrives at the penthouse the next morning with a bag of pastries from Marlene's and absolutely no idea what she's walking into.
I haven't told her about the gigolo misunderstanding. Not because I want to keep it secret, but because I know that once Sophie finds out, the reaction will be explosive and unstoppable and probably loud enough to shatter glass. And I need to be physically present to witness it. Some things are too precious to experience through text messages.
She finds me in the living room, still wearing my unicorn pajamas and nursing my third cup of coffee. Lucas made it before retreating to his study with the ficus. His ears are still carrying traces of yesterday's burgundy trauma. Martha has gone back to his apartment to "rest and reflect," which I suspect means she's replaying the entire conversation in her head and cringing just as hard as her son.
