Strolling along a cobbled sidewalk, licking an ice cream cone which cost far too much money, Presley reminded herself she was in a part of the world mere mortals like her should never tread. She wondered whether the people walking around dressed to the nines in the early morning did this every day. It seemed a waste of an effort which would have taken her hours to do, considering she normally woke up in the morning and put her hair in a messy bun, added sunscreen and lip gloss and called herself ready for work.
Her phone buzzed again in her pocket, and she knew it was impossible for it to be anyone from home. When she’d spoken to her parents it was after eleven at night. She’d seen her last text messages from the girls after midnight their time and took one annoyed call from her editor wh
