“Me? Faking an ident?!” Sienna’s voice shot up an octave. Queenie, noticing themotion, excused herself from her group and made her way over.


    “Queenie’sing,” whispered a friend at Sienna’s side.


    For a split second, Sienna panicked. She red at Alessia and Liam, clutching her dress as she tried to make a quick exit.


    “Do you want me to buy you a brand–new one, exactly the same? <i>Or</i>… I mean, you don’t look like you can afford it–maybe cash would be better?” Alessia called after her, sugar–sweet and innocent as could be.


    “No need!” Sienna hissed, practically spitting the words out through clenched teeth. She shot Alessia a murderous look, spun on her heel, and stormed off–only to trip as her high heel caught on the step. She stumbled, nearly falling, her face turning bright red.


    Her friends hurried after her, but Sienna kept her head down and didn’t look back, practically fleeing the scene in a flustered, undignified rush.


    By the time Queenie arrived, all she saw was the back of Sienna’s head as she disappeared in a hurry. Queenie turned her attention back to Liam, nodding a quick hello.


    Liam nodded back, ruffling Alessia’s hair. “I’ll head over for now, but don’t leave yet. I’ll give <i>you </i>a ride hometer.” He’d met Sienna during work events–he knew full well how she and Alessia were connected.


    “Got it,” Alessia replied, waving him off.


    Once Liam was <i>gone</i><i>, </i>Queenie grabbed Alessia’s hand, scanning her up and down, clearly worried.


    “Lessie, what happened? Are <i>you </i>alright?”


    Alessia held Queenie’s arm, half amused, half exasperated. “Honestly, doesn’t it look like she’s the one with the problem?“–referring to Sienna, of course.


    “As long as you’re okay, that’s all I care about.” For Queenie, if Alessia wasn’t the one who got hurt, the rest didn’t matter.


    <i>“</i><i>So</i>, who was that?” Alessia had no intention of repeating what Sienna said.


    <b>12:42 </b>


    “You don’t know her?” Queenie was surprised.


    “Should I?”


    “She’s your brother’s date–you know, Max.”


    “His date?” Alessia suddenly remembered Max mentioning someone over dinner a while ago. She hadn’t expected it to be her.


    “The Tate family’s in a bit of trouble with their finances; Scott Tate wants Max toe back and take over thepany. Guess he’s hoping to partner up with the Winstons, so he’s arranging for the two of them to get to know each other.”


    The Winston Group specialized in banking and loans–Scott’s n was obvious.


    This was news to Alessia; she’d had a lot on her tetely and wasn’t keeping up with family politics.


    “How do you know her, then?” Alessia asked.


    Queenie puffed up her cheeks, looking adorably indignant. “We’re both in the same graduate program. And our names are kind of simr, right? Our professor’s from out of the country–can never pronounce them right. She always gets us mixed up.” The memory made Queenie sound both resigned and a little annoyed.


    “So that’s why she was picking a fight?”


    No wonder Alessia and Queenie were such close friends–their first instinct was always <i>to </i>defend each other.


    Throw Ste into the mix and the three of them lived by the motto: “There’s no way my friend’s the problem–it’s always the other person.”


    “It wasn’t really a fight, just some petty jabs. I just tune her out.”


    “But after that incident, I haven’t seen her around. I don’t even remember her being on the guest list for theunch tonight.”


    12:4