ZACH POV.
I was in the middle of the pack project when my phone lit up with Emma’s name. The message was short:
Your princess is here. She seems really sad. Thought you should know.
I stared at the screen for two seconds, then shut the laptop, grabbed my keys, and left. The project could wait.
I spotted her red hair the second I stepped into the clubhouse. Mabel was at the bar with Emma, glass half-empty in her hand. Even from across the room I could tell she was past the point of “a couple of drinks.” Her posture was loose, her smile too wide, her eyes glassy.
Emma leaned in, concerned. “You sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine,” Mabel said, waving her off. “One more. Come on.”
Emma hesitated. “You sure?”
Mabel giggled. “Yes.”
Emma sighed and motioned to the bartender. Fresh drinks ap
