I could find a seat, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.
“Dulce.” Priscilla’s gaze traveled from my drugstore makeup to my scuffed heels, her lips pressing into a thin line of disappointment. “You couldn’t find anything nicer to wear? This is the Plaza Hotel, not a coffee shop.”
“This is what I have, Mom.”
“Well.” She adjusted her Cartier continue reading …
