"Are you ready?" Kent asks me. He's sitting at the kitchen table in my villa, drinking a cup of coffee from the fancy espresso machine on the countertop and scrolling through his phone. He hasn't even looked up, and I clear my throat impatiently.
"What?" he asks, finally raising his head. "You look great. I told you that you would – you don't need me to approve your outfits."
"Well, excuse me for being a little nervous on my first day as an imposter witch doctor infiltrating the mansion of the most powerful political family in New York," I say, trying not to snap but feeling a little raw.
"Okay, okay, fair enough," Kent says. "Let me look at you properly, then."
He stands up and walks around me in a circle, like I'm in a fashion show. Sunlight is streaming through the windows, cheerfu
