“Just trust me, okay? You don’t want to miss this.”
“God forbid we skip a single minute of tea and crumpets!” I snort. “How exceptionally vital…”
“Screw the crumpets. Haven’t you figured out how this works, yet? More political decisions have been made by women sipping tea than they ever have by men in grand halls. The women in that room run this country. Their husbands might control the laws… buttheycontrol their husbands.”
I snort. “This session of Parliament sponsored in part by: Prada.”
She grins. “Now you’re getting it.”
Feet heavy with dread, I follow her back into the room where a pack of wolves in designer day dresses awaits — their words far sharper than fangs, their stares more cutting than any set of claws.
Let the games begin.