Oh good lord. Cape swirling around her ankles, Emma stopped short in the driveway, double-checking the paperwork through her freshly-acquired sunglasses, even though she knew her memory didn't fail her. The place was bright yellow.
Absolutely nothing about Florida was okay.
"I owe San Francisco an apology," she said to no one in particular before squaring her shoulders and finishing the short walk to the front door to try her key. Part of her hoped it wouldn't fit and she could take the opportunity to go charm her way somewhere not-yellow, like, oh, New York...but no such luck. The tumblers turned smoothly and the door swung open on an entryway that looked like it had been staged by a low-performing real estate agent.
"Tract housing." It was an imprecation when Emma said it. Too wrapped up in her growing sulk to notice Logan's mind--her subconscious didn't class him as a threat, after all--she tossed her shopping onto a chair and glared around the room as though that would change the furnishings to her taste.
no subject
Absolutely nothing about Florida was okay.
"I owe San Francisco an apology," she said to no one in particular before squaring her shoulders and finishing the short walk to the front door to try her key. Part of her hoped it wouldn't fit and she could take the opportunity to go charm her way somewhere not-yellow, like, oh, New York...but no such luck. The tumblers turned smoothly and the door swung open on an entryway that looked like it had been staged by a low-performing real estate agent.
"Tract housing." It was an imprecation when Emma said it. Too wrapped up in her growing sulk to notice Logan's mind--her subconscious didn't class him as a threat, after all--she tossed her shopping onto a chair and glared around the room as though that would change the furnishings to her taste.