The living room of the Sinclair Penthouse had been commandeered.
Where there was once a minimalist open space, there were now five rolling racks of couture gowns, three tables covered in velvet jewelry trays, and a very stressed Coco running back and forth with a steamer.
"No, no, absolutely not!" Coco shrieked, snatching a pale pink chiffon dress from a terrified assistant's hands. "She is the face of a luxury diamond house, not a debutante at a spring picnic! Pink says 'I'm sweet'. We need a dress that says 'I'm the most expensive thing in the room'."
Aria sat on the sofa, wrapped in a silk robe, sipping a green smoothie Ken had forced upon her. She watched the chaos with amusement.
"Coco," Aria said. "Relax. We have two hours before the press release photos."
