“Yes,”
“And if you run into that asshole Dean Monroe,” she continued, “you’re going to remind him he didn’t win. And he didn’t deserve a single ounce of kindness you gave him.”
The mention of Dean made my stomach knot, and I pulled the jacket tighter around myself.
But I nodded anyway.
“Or,” Maeve added. “We could tie him up with a cord and suffocate him with alcohol or something.”
That pulled a laugh out of me, even though I had a feeling she wasn’t joking.
Then she let go of me, and we both turned to the large mirror.
Me in that leather trousers and white jacket, and Maeve in a lavender dress that looked expensive enough to pay someone’s rent for two years.
“You feel good, don’t you?” She finally asked.
I shrugged. “Well, I don’t feel like an upcoming entertainment.”
“Entert
