Eleanor
Lara let out a soft, knowing hum, her nails tapping lightly against her water glass as she looked between us with far too much interest. “So,” she mused, voice deceptively light, “what brings you over here, Della? Surely you’re not the type to leave your own table just to say hello.”
“I’m sorry, do I know her?” Della asked me, not looking at Lara and she smiled with a shrug.
“Oh, I’m sure you don’t. But Ellie here told me about you.” Lara said.
Della’s gaze flickered toward Lara then, just briefly, just enough to acknowledge her presence, before shifting right back to me. “I happened to notice you sitting here,” she said smoothly, shrugging one shoulder as she tilted her head slightly, “and I figured, since we didn’t get a proper chance to talk earlier, now would be the perfe
