Chapter 17: Was I?
Reese
“Elizabeth accepted the invite. She’s coming to the party.” Lauren delivered the news with a bright, almost triumphant smile that immediately set my nerves on edge.
I froze mid-button, fingers stilled on the third fastening of my charcoal shirt. The fabric suddenly felt too tight. And the room felt too warm.
The bar had a shipment arriving in less than an hour—expensive decor that I needed to personally inspect before the opening night—but suddenly the urgency of that task faded into the background.
Because of that smile. Lauren only smiled like that when something was brewing in her head. Something dangerous.
Slowly, I turned away from the mirror and faced her fully. “You asked Lizzie to your brother’s party,” I repeated carefully, watching her expression.
