The Range Rover interior felt like a tomb. Vivienne's fingers tapped against the steering wheel, her purple eyes flicking to Isaiah in the passenger seat every few seconds. Something was wrong. Isaiah never forgot appointments. Never missed calls. Never showed up looking like he'd been through a war zone.
Yet here he was, staring out the window with vacant eyes, his normally perfect hair sticking up in all directions, wearing a tank top and sweatpants like he'd been dragged from sleep. Or a fight.
Vivienne caught Cassidy's gaze in the rearview mirror. Cassidy gave a small nod. They both knew: the proposition would have to wait.
"You want to talk about it?" Cassidy asked, leaning forward between the front seats. When Isaiah didn't respond, she poked his shoulder. "Hello? Earth to Angelo?"
Isaiah blinked slowly. "Sorry. What?"
"Your mom," Cassidy said. "Spill. What's the deal?"
"There's no deal." Isaiah turned back to the window. "She left. Now she's back. End of story."
