The drive to the upscale mall passed in a haze of easy banter, the kind that made time stretch and shrink all at once.
"So, sir," James said from the front seat, catching Rafael's reflection in the rearview mirror, "any particular stores in mind? Or are we bravely attempting to conquer the entire mall?"
Rafael smirked, his hand settling on Eliana's knee with quiet possession, his thumb brushing small, absent circles as if he needed the contact to stay grounded. "First of all—drop the sir, James."
James inclined his head with a barely-there smirk. "Duly noted."
"And second," Rafael continued, "we start with the luxury boutiques. Evening dresses, comfortable daytime outfits…" His mouth twitched. "And whatever equipment is required for that so-called glamping situation at the conference."
Eliana scoffed, leaning back against the seat. "Glamping with billionaires," she said dryly. "That sounds like an oxymoron. Either you're camping or you're lying to yourself."
