She points to : “I don’t like that you follow me around like a puppy. Get a personality. Or at least a new storyline.” Scotty’s jaw tightens. She doesn’t cry. She smiles. “Noted.” That smile is more threatening than a scream.
Natalie announces the first "mission": a private tasting at , a members-only whiskey lounge in the West Loop. But there’s a twist.
“Say that again. I dare you.”
Silence.
Whiskey, Weak Links, and Windy City Warnings
pulls out a phone and reads aloud: “‘Natalie is a washed-up producer plant. Rollie smells like regret. I’m only here for the clout. I hate every single one of them.’”
Teaira freezes. The other baddies form a semicircle. grins.
42 minutes