Ivy sat in the reserved booth of Commissioned Club, platinum section. She rested her injured arm in a sling, fidgeting slightly with her untouched drink as she scanned the room.
Her eyes flicked toward the entrance just as a familiar presence filled the doorway. Trish moved with her usual fluid grace. Relief washed over Ivy's features, and she rose slightly from the booth to greet her friend. They embraced.
"Of course! It's you, isn't it?" Trish said, her eyes immediately on Ivy's arm. Concern etched her face. "I saw the news about a hit and run in front of Everest Headquarters. A part of me thought…that it had something to do with you. But since you said I should never call you, I couldn't."
Ivy sank deeper into the plush chair as Trish slid in beside her, the soft music thrumming up through the floors.
"I always knew going after Tom was dangerous," Ivy said. "But we were wrong. Tom was never the problem. The problem was Sharona."
