*Pryce Winsley’s POV*
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We stepped out of the ladies’ restroom to head to the secluded part of this restaurant owned by our very own lawyer and friend, Leanne Jordan, that is mainly used for meal meetings--the conference room. And we are pretty sure that they are already waiting there. We still have two minutes before the agreed time, so I presume we aren’t really that late.
“Hell...oh, girls! Damn, you look so different. But it's a good difference. What happened?” Leanne greeted us, quite surprised to see our old and unusual faces, and I flashed her a cheeky smile as Blair and I took our seats on each of her sides.