Sienna
THE DINNER with Alistair had drained me far more than work ever could.
I dropped my bag onto the couch, loosened the buttons of my blouse, and headed straight for the shower. Warm water washed over my skin, but it did little to clear the lingering tension in my chest.
By the time I stepped back into the living room with damp hair and fresh clothes, my phone was vibrating loudly against the coffee table.
I glanced at the screen. It was my Mom. My expression cooled immediately.
I stared at the phone for two rings longer before finally answering. "Hi, Mom."
"Sienna," Beatrice greeted warmly. "Did I wake you?"
"No. I just got home."
"How have you been? You sound tired."
I walked toward the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, more to occupy myself than beca
