REDS
he pressed on the brakes, feeling the BMW glide to a perfect stop at the red light on Fairfax and Beverly. It did feel great driving a car more powerful than her old Toyota, but she would never admit that to anyone.
Tired and overwhelmed, Sasha had begged Red to drive her to the meeting with the intimidating interior designer, Delilah. Just Delilah, like Cher or Madonna.
“I know that Delilah feels that the energy of Arun, the Warrior Prince, would give the babies courage to fight their lesser inner selves,” Sasha prattled on nervously from the passenger seat. “But I don’t know, doesn’t that seem a little . . . .” She searched for the right word.
“Ridiculous?” Red suggested. Just like the hot new LA designer. “They’re babies.”
“Right?” Sasha nodded her head.
“And excessive,” Red
