Twenty-Six
Ari’s brain short-circuited.
The staff member—a woman in a crisp uniform with an expression that could melt steel—stepped inside and folded her arms. ‘Would you like to explain why you’re rifling through someone’s personal belongings?’
Ari opened her mouth. No words came out.
The woman’s eyes flicked to the necklace. ‘And what, exactly, do you think you’re doing with that?’
OK. This was bad. This was very, very bad. Ari could talk her way out of a lot of things. But this? This was bad.
She cleared her throat. ‘I’m…’
The staff member crossed her arms. ‘Do I need to call security?’
Ari pressed on, forcing her most innocent expression. ‘Look, this isn’t what it looks like. I mean, I understand what it looks like, but that’s not what’s happening. You see, this necklace… Have you ever… You know how… The thing is…’
Nancy made a quiet groan.
Ari’s mind scrambled for a good excuse. Nothing came to her. She could just apologise. Except that would involve admitting guilt. She could make a run for it. Except she’d have to commit to a full-on sprint through a house full of wedding guests and security. Not ideal.
She settled for panicked silence.