The laughter outside floated in through the open kitchen window—lazy and loose, the kind that followed full bellies and half-finished beers. Tristan's voice carried the loudest, followed by Justin's bark of laughter and Elise's father's deep chuckle.
Inside, Sofia stood by the sink, her yellow sundress fluttering slightly each time the night breeze passed through. Barefoot on the cool tiles, she rinsed dishes under warm water, her hair falling loosely down her back. Anne was drying beside her, while Elise sat on the counter, legs swinging, sneaking mango slices between washes.
"So," Anne said casually, her voice rich with mischief, "should we talk about the giant billionaire-shaped elephant in the driveway?"
Sofia didn't flinch, but her hands paused—just long enough to betray her.
"Or," Elise added with a sugary smile, "should we talk about the way he didn't take his eyes off you all night? Not even when Tristan was doing his best impression of a tabloid headline."
