“I have a problem.” A familiar fourth voice cut into our conversation, and I silently thanked the gods for it. Sophie squeezed herself into the empty chair beside Poppy and slammed her purse down dramatically. Subtlety had never been her strong suit, and numerous eyes watched the loud blonde girl with cocktail rings. Amelie rolled her eyes at Sophie’s theatrics. There was no love lost between the two. She thought Sophie was brash, spoiled, and selfish. In turn, Sophie didn’t take kindly to Amelie’s hot-tempered nature. “What’s the big tragedy?” I asked. “I’m organizing a threesome, and my
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