“The internet will be on fire.” Primrose said as Egan began to close her door.
“What?” He paused, laughing.
“They would tear your mistress apart.” She said,
“You would like that, huh?” He chuckled, closing the door finally.
He could see her frowning at him from behind the shiny dark glass and his smile seemed to grow broader.
He got in the car and pulled out of the building, joining the traffic of cars leaving the event.
He glanced at Primrose again and again, but he could not read her expression.
She was quiet, and it seemed something was on her mind, probably Joan, but he could not decide if it annoyed her, or hurt her.
No, not hurt. Primrose never felt hurt, only anger.
They were almost home, and she had been quiet the whole ride. He was beginning to fear that Joan had ruine
