ISADORA
"Isadora, hi," Phillippe says warmly like we're good friends. "I wasn't expecting to come across anyone at this time. You're up early."
"Yeah," is all I say before I start walking past him.
I can feel his eyes on me, though, and I don't get too far before I hear him say, "I think it would be best if we talked about it."
"It?" I question, whirling around.
Phillippe walks toward me, his expression neutral. "It wasn't Justin's place to talk about an arrangement that hasn't even been confirmed. I could tell you didn't know anything about it."
I simply stare back at him and don't say a word in response. What's his point? Maybe I should ask him why he keeps staring at me all the time—that's the only thing about him that I'm interested in finding out.
A small smile curls the cor
