Lexington
Brooklyn and I are sitting at the table in Rebecca's posh penthouse uncertain of why she asked us to be here, while we watch her nervously flit around the apartment doing unnecessary things in an effort to keep herself busy.
"Do you guys want some chablis? I brought it back from France."
Brooklyn clears her throat. "Sure. I'll take some."
I give my head a shake indicating that I pass on the offer as I watch her saunter toward her wine rack, pulling down two glasses before going to the kitchen to fetch the wine.
Chancing a look at Brooklyn, I was able to see my own unease echoes in her expression as she casts me a sideways glance from beneath her lashes. She's of the same mind I am. Rebecca is clearly nervous about something, but I'm not exactly sure what, and it seems that Brooklyn and I are in agreement about that fact.
