the pristine white bed the size of an acre, the TV the size of a small cinema, the champagne on ice,
the silver tray full of “Brazilian honey cakes” as the card informed them.
“Don’t suppose you’ll be having any of these,” said Joanna, taking one of the little delicacies from the tray.
“Now you’re on that new plan. Harley said I had to keep an eye on you.” Nora watched Joanna bite into one of the cakes
and wondered how good any plan could be if it didn’t involve eating something so clearly delicious as a Brazilian honey cake.
She had no idea who Harley was, but she knew she didn’t like them.
“Also... just so you know, the fires are still going on in LA and they’re evacuating half of Calabasas now,”
“but hopefully it won’t get as high as your place...”
Nora didn’t know whether to be pleased at the idea of having a house in LA, or worried that it was about to go on fire.
The two Brazilian podcast guys took a few moments to set up their equipment.
And Nora sunk herself into the vast sofa in the living area
as Joanna – attending to a few rogue crumbs around her mouth with a heavily manicured finger –
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