A Growing Attraction Part 2
By Saturday, the city’s downtown is already crawling with the kind of money that has its own gravity. Rhonda swears the marble lobby of the convention center even smells expensive—like furniture polish and lemon rinds and something else sharp she can’t place. She checks her reflection in the glass, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut. The dress Alicia talked her into is black, simple, and a little too tight in the shoulders. She’s paired it with a battered leather jacket and boots, just to remind herself she’s not a total sellout. Inside, the charity auction is a mess of high heels, sculpted hair, and people who use the word “legacy” like it’s a birthright. Rhonda scans the crowd, searching for Alicia, who is easy to find in a sea of pastels and perfect posture. Her sister is
- Writer
