Near the end of the workday, Grace’s phone buzzed with a message.
"Whatcha up to?"
"There's a get-together tonight, wanna come? Just a few of us girls."
Well, well. Dana was calling her out—publicly, no less—tagging her in their group chat with a few mutual friends.
Grace usually showed up at these kinds of things. Partly to kill time, partly to scope out what the other rich girls were wearing lately—always good for design inspo. But lately, her creativity was flowing, and she had zero interest in a night of overpriced drinks and shallow gossip.
"Nah, my hubby’s waiting for me at home," Grace replied.
"DON’T PLAY DUMB. Your hubby and my hubby are both at the same cocktail thing tonight."
Grace stared at the message, wanting to slap Dana through the screen. She jabbed her reply back
