The remnants of their shared dinner sat on the table.
Gloria's fingers brushed absentmindedly against the surface of her light brain, which contained the stolen photo, smiling slyly like a seasoned thief.
These photos were worth more than every designer piece she had purchased today. Worth more than the entire shopping center, quite frankly.
Gloria glanced at Neville, who now sat cross-legged on the opposite end of the sofa, his hazel-brown hair slightly mussed from a long day of being dragged from store to store.
Those ocean-blue eyes, hidden behind those ridiculous nerd glasses, sparkled with the easy warmth of someone who had no idea what kind of scheming was happening right under his nose.
Poor dear, she thought with genuine affection. Completely oblivious.
