Jocelyn tore the protective film off her phone screen with an easy, careless motion. "Relax, the inner screen's fine. Besides, with how close we are, I'd—"
She suddenly broke off, her tone dropping. "Wait, who did you say you ran into?"
Cynthia sighed, massaging her temples. "Johnny."
Jocelyn took a deep breath. "He didn't give you any trouble, did he?"
Cynthia groaned. "He wouldn't stop pestering me for my number."
Disgust flashed in Jocelyn's eyes as she grumbled, "The Sutherlands are really riding high these days. Word is, in a few months, his dad's moving up yet another rung."
She shook her head in frustration. "That's just how things go now. The ones who stick to the rules struggle for every scrap, while the schemers and players live it up."
The Chalfonts were like that. So were the Sutherlands.
Jocelyn frowned, clearly annoyed with herself. "I never should've dragged you here today. You didn't actually give him your number, did you?"
Cynthia shook her head, but then admitted with a hint of regret, "I tried to pass him Giselle's number. But he caught on right away."
"If Mr. Holloway hadn't shown up just then, I don't think I'd have gotten away."
Jocelyn's eyes lit up with curiosity and she leaned in eagerly. "Mr. Holloway? Is that who I think it is?"
Cynthia nodded. "Yep."
Jocelyn nudged her playfully with her elbow, a sly grin on her lips. "Well, well. Looks like this wild stallion's come trotting back for another taste of Mr. Holloway's forbidden fruit."
Cynthia laughed helplessly and linked arms with Jocelyn as they headed toward the private dining room. "Oh, cut it out. As if Mr. Holloway would ever be my second chance. He's the kind of untouchable flower that only grows on icy mountaintops. Me? I'm just a workhorse down in the fields—I couldn't reach him even if I tried. Come on, the food's getting cold and I'm starv—"
She didn't even finish the word before a man rounded the corner, startling her so badly that "starving" came out in a jumble of syllables.
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