"Should we discuss business now?" Emily asked, her manicured fingers smoothening the floral maxi's chiffon folds over her thighs with deliberate care, the airy fabric whispering silk-soft under the chandelier's golden candlelight as the quartet's strings hummed their velvet backdrop.
"Business?"
The violin sighs weaving languid jazz into Strauss waltzes, notes floating like smoke through the elite dining room's hush.
"Yes, business. We should discuss it now. I mean, you left me alone, remember?"
Her emerald eyes flicked up from the linen tablecloth, raven chignon catching a glint, full lips still glossy from hibiscus fizz, the earlier paparazzi frenzy fading to a distant buzz in her mind.
"We can't do that, Emily," Hellen replied firm but gentle, ice-blue eyes steady over her emptied wagyu plate, blonde ponytail draping loose over one shoulder and catching a soft glint from the chandelier's crystal pendants.
