She didn’t remember that moment. It must have been before the stress, before the kombucha crisis, before the psychic breakdowns and the chandelier and the nineteen-page rider. It was just a crack between tasks. A glitch in the machine.
“You okay?” Sage asked, pouring.
Instead, she pulled out her phone. Opened the photos app. Scrolled past spreadsheets and receipts and one blurry picture of a sunset she’d taken six months ago because everyone else was doing it. tight ass candid