Rick glanced up from his soup. “Is there a reason you two are plotting over the cutlery?”
Violet smiled sweetly. “Layla thinks your silver is judging her.”
Rick looked directly at me. “They’re judging everyone, doll. Don’t take it personally.”
I laughed.
And that was the beginning.
After that, Rick spoke to me often. He asked questions, remembered the answers, and noticed things about me—like how I always saw the price of something before I noticed its beauty.
“Because price decides what gets to stay beautiful,” I said once.
Rick leaned back in his chair. “That’s either wise or sad, Layla.”
“Probably both.”
He gave a small smile. “You say hard things like you’re apologizing for them.”
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