For The Fifth Vow
“At seventy? Child, that woman’s uterus retired before Obama’s first term!”
Theo looked up from his laptop. “Y’all realize this means people care, right? This is publicity!”
Rory turned on him. “Boy, we don’t need publicity! We sell po’boys, not politics!”
Ava walked in just then, calm as ever, sunglasses low, lips painted the color of confidence. The chatter stopped like someone pulled the plug on the room.
She removed her shades slowly. “What’s wrong? Did Beyoncé retire again?”
Rory crossed his arms. “You tell us, Ms. Cover Story.”
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