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Tatiana glanced at Frankie then back to me. "She's fine, Jags."

"The night is not over yet."

"I might live to regret this next statement but…" She drew a deep breath before she said, "Give her the benefit of the doubt for the moment." She grimaced afterward. "I actually said that, didn't I?"

"You did." I smirked and looked over at Clem who'd moved on to inspect the bookshelf beside the stack of new canvases. "I just don't want Frankie to hurt her feelings."

"I'm pretty sure that, even if she did, Clem can handle herself."

"I know, but I don't want her to not handle me anymore because of it."

A flop on the sofa startled me when Frankie plopped herself down between me and Tati where Clem formerly sat. "Don't worry. I won't sleep with her."

"Frankie, c'mon." I shoved her away from me when she got too close.

"I just defended you. Don't spoil it." Tatiana scowled.

"Hmm. Don't think anyone has ever done that." She lifted both of her feet to stare down at her clunky black boots. "I guess I should return your shoes then."

"Ugh." Tati snorted. "Your gross feet can keep them. That's like Kimmy Gibbler wearing my shoes."

"Who's Kimmy Gibbler?" Frankie and I asked at the same time.

"A very underrated secondary character on a television show from the eighties who had terribly malodourous feet." Clementine returned to us, and delicately seated herself beside me on the other side.

"Very underrated. She was great in the reboot though." Tati nodded.

"There's a reboot?" Clem's eyes widened. "I would like to see it."

"I'm down for a rewatch." Tati chuckled and nodded to the television. "Anytime."

"I will join you." Clem turned her attention to Frankie for a moment and the faintest crinkle flickered across her forehead for a brief moment. She didn't say anything, but I felt the knuckle of her index finger stroke the side of my thigh.

"Boring," piped Frankie. "Let's watch that new detective show. Crime and—"

"No way. I live a detective show." My argument would no doubt fall on deaf ears, and I regretted it the moment I said it. Any contrariness would only urge Frankie to push the matter per usual.

"Double boring." She blew a raspberry at me with her tongue. "So, Clem. How many languages do you speak?"

"Five fluently," she answered simply without looking at Frankie. Her attention remained on the tallest wall of the vaulted ceiling that held several of Tatiana's art pieces. At the bottom, eye-level to a child, Reagan's work hung in a neat row.

"Jeeze. I hardly speak English."

"That's true," I said, smirking at her.

"Just like you." Frankie pretended to hiss at me.

I put up my fists at her mockingly and she mimicked me, like we were about to enter a gentle MMA ring.

"I've seen many sisters in my life," began Clem, interrupting the stupidity exchange between Frankie and me. "And you two act just like them."

We all laughed at that.

"I agree with Clementine," said Tati. "They're really annoying sometimes, to be honest."

"I can see how that could be true." Clem smiled when she said it, her gaze landing on mine. "But you're never annoying to me."

I felt my cheeks catch fire as the blush took over, tightening my throat along with it. Her beautiful face, with a playful expression and sparkling eyes, shone brightly in the highlights of the overhead lighting. A small chuckle left her as she tucked her hair behind her ear and shrugged.