“We need to talk.”
“Do you know who’s upstairs?”
“Yes.”
Bianca’s head snapped toward her.
“Priya—”
“Not here,” Priya said.
Her voice was calm but carried the authority of someone accustomed to ending arguments before they began.
She nodded toward the lounge.
“There’s a private sitting room behind the bar. We can take Mila with us.”
Bianca reached for Priya’s arm.
“You don’t understand.”
Priya looked down at Bianca’s hand until she removed it.
“I understand that you told the legal spouse of an executive she wasn’t allowed into a company event.”
Bianca swallowed.
“I followed the guest list.”
“Then the guest list is wrong.”
“It wasn’t wrong when I received it.”
That sentence stopped all three of us.
Priya’s eyes narrowed.
“When did you receive it?”
“This afternoon.”
“From whom?”
Bianca hesitated.
I could see the answer before she spoke.
