"So tell me," Eloise asked, lifting her teacup with practiced elegance, "how close are you?"
Nina peered over the rim of her own cup, taking a slow sip to stretch the silence and gather her courage. She could feel the older woman's sharp eyes tracking her every move. A genuine, slightly helpless warmth tugged at the corners of her lips. "We are very close."
Eloise froze, her silver brows snapping upward. Her cup paused halfway to the saucer. "…Very close?"
Nina gave a small, quiet nod. "Mm."
The old woman's fingers tightened around her porcelain cup. Then, utterly shamelessly, her gaze drifted downward—past Nina's face, past her shoulders, straight to her legs as if looking for physical proof of a shift in her posture.
The bluntness of the look caught Nina off guard, and she nearly snorted into her tea, quickly swallowing to hide her embarrassment.
Eloise looked back up, her voice dropping to a sharp, intense whisper. "You both have done it?"
