Pamela tried to brush off the judgment in the kitchen with a dismissive wave. “What’s with the faces, girls? It’s just an outfit I chose for the occasion.”
The women exchanged a long, silent look. Dora was dressed in a modest, flowery gown, while Jenny and Melissa wore sensible long-sleeved blouses and trousers. Pamela, by contrast, looked like she was heading to a disco in 1978.
“If you say so, dear...” Dora said, pursing her lips. “Though there is a very handsome boy who came with Josias who might find it... interesting.”
Pamela’s lips curved into a sly, feline smile. She had noticed him. Who was that guy with a face that looked like marble carved by the Gods?
“Mom, can we just call the men in? My stomach is growling,” Melissa said, trying to hide her annoyance. She knew exactly what
