Chapter Eight
Zoe
“Oh my God, you’re being ridiculous,” Jana said with a shake of her head.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not. Ethan is way out of my league.”
Jana finished chewing the bite of omelet she’d just taken and brushed her hair off her shoulder—her hair was naturally brown with streaks of purple and burgundy. With her typically eye catching hair colors, wide blue eyes, porcelain skin and hourglass figure, she tended to draw attention no matter where we were. At the moment, we were having breakfast at a nondescript diner before heading into the office. The man seated at the booth across from us had spent the last half hour eyeing Jana while she was entirely oblivious. The diner in question was aptly named West Coast Diner. The simple name was befitting its simple location in a square
