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Google tells me that West is the son of a billionaire, and a glance at my banking app tells me I am a thirty-dollaraire.
“This is going to be a disaster. I’m so excited!”
“I would say we love a short king, but in your dad’s case, I’m not sure we do.”
I want to be on your team. I’m here for you. I’m your ride-or-die, West Weston.
It is the comfort of having an ally. It is the powerlessness of infatuation. It is the terrifying beginning of more.
“I’m Anna Green. I’m a painter and a daughter and a former convenience store cashier and part-time waitress and I’m lucky to be married to your son. I don’t know what choice Liam is going to make, whether he’ll agree to your truly fucked-up terms or whether he’ll choose himself for the first time in his life, but I can tell you this: no matter what happens tonight, it’s only a matter of time before every single person in this room leaves you, and I think you know it.”