*Harper*
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I nearly knock over a half-empty mug of coffee trying to grab it.
Damien: Pack your bags, little red bird. My jet leaves at 10:00 A.M. on Friday.
I grin, biting my lip, and another message pops in before I can reply.
Damien: And bring the other two along. I suppose they can sit with the peasants in the back.
Scott: I’m taller than you.
Tomas: And I’m more charming.
Damien: But I’m richer.
I can’t stop laughing as the group chat explodes with the kind of snarky chaos that has somehow become my new normal.
Scott: Don’t care. I’m bringing snacks.
Tomas: Do not let Scott choose the snacks. I beg you.
Damien: Fine. I’ll stock the jet myself. Only the finest artisanal chips and caviar-flavored popcorn.
Rafe: Wait. What’s happening?
I s
