The doorman cursed under his breath as Hera and Prudence’s fidgety high-heeled feet clicked-clacked, clicked-clacked around the marble lobby of an Upper-East side apartment complex. “Ladies, Mr. Applewhite will be here in twenty minutes. Would you care to... please, sit down?”
“We’re fine, sweetie. Thanks.”
He shifted his left white cuff as his shoulders rose and crashed in his boxy brown blazer. “Very well, ladies.”
Prudence stomped her feet. “I should snatch that wicked phone.”
“Suicidal again?”
“I don’t really care for Harmony right now, but she doesn’t wanna fight. Sweetie, everyone wants peace. Everyone except you. This whole thing between you, Harmony and Marcus happened like... like eight or nine years ago. You gotta let it go, sweetie.”
“The champagne I ordered wi
