But fate has a cruel sense of humor.
The elevator chimed just as I reached for it. The doors slid open, and there she was… the b***h, Carmela. Draped in designer fabric that clung like second skin, holding a coffee cup like it was an extension of her hand. Her smile was already sharp, as though she'd been waiting for me.
She didn't sidestep. She collided into me deliberately, the coffee tilting, splashing across her pristine dress.
Her gasp pierced the air, fake, theatrical. "You ruined my dress! Again!" Her voice rose, carrying across the lobby. "You pathetic little thing, do you think this is funny? Do you think Calhoun will save you?"
I froze, my chest burning with humiliation as eyes turned toward us. "I didn't—"
But she didn't let me finish. She tossed the rest of the coffee in m
