“Ouch. Do you mind? This is a silk-wool blend. You’ll wrinkle it.” “It’s about to be shredded.” She seethes up at me, eyes shooting sparks. “You just totally threw our business out there.” “I told them not to talk about it.” Her nose wrinkles. “Which means they’ll be talking about it even more.” “No, they won’t.” “Yes, we will,” Rye calls. I point at him. “Start practicing your Running Man.”