Aria’s POV
“You know, it would be nice if I had my own office,” I said, barging into Marcel’s Office at Rooted—hell, my Office, technically.
He looked up from the stack of papers spread across his desk, the same ones he’d been going through all day our sales report. Probably trying to figure out how much money he could squeeze out of this place. Sucks for him…. I'm broke.
Last week we agreed to be civil for Hope’s sake. She was a total daddy’s girl now by the way . After practice, she refused to follow me home
To make things worse, my car wouldn't start so Marcel had to drive us and Hope insisted on riding shotgun while I sat in the back. Marcel opted to carry her while driving , and when I reminded them both about safety, they called me boring.
“You already have an office,” he said,
