Kingston
It was a perfectly choreographed evening—until Daisy approached me. She was wearing a new pink dress over a tiny string bikini, both of which she had undoubtedly purchased on my card.
“Kingston,” she said, looping her arm around mine like it belonged there, “I just had the most unfortunate incident a second ago.”
I barely glanced at her. She always had a flair for dramatics, and tonight was no exception.
“There was a woman—I just passed by her, and she was so rude. I tried to greet her, but she brushed past me like I wasn’t even there.”
She gave a slow, disapproving shake of her head. “I thought, maybe… she might be one of your friends?”
The way she said it was all sugar, but the edge underneath wasn’t lost on me. My jaw tensed.
Daisy watched my reaction like a hawk. Sh
