When Rafi woke at the hotel in L.A., Julian was gone, leaving a message with the concierge about unexpectedly needing an earlier flight but here was Rafi’s ticket. Since then he hadn’t heard from Julian directly, but he’d liked a photo on Rafi’s i********:—the ethereal fairytale shot from the after party. He hoped that gesture at least meant he hadn’t done anything rude while he was drunk. He didn’t really remember.
Hungover and exhausted from the late night, Rafi hadn’t done much but fall back into bed when he finally got home. It was probably time to get up now, he thought grudgingly, squinting at the sunlight through his bedroom window. Amber would be here soon, to update him on all the legal nonsense and have “a big-picture talk,” whatever that meant.
He pulled his phone off the char
