Angelina was patting at her shirt with an expression that Katie didn't particularly want to touch and so she spoke instead, setting down the wine and hoisting herself up onto Alicia's scarily clean countertop. Leaning back and bracing herself on the heels of her hands, she regarded Ali curiously, banging her feet against the cabinets below.
"It sure as hell didn't look like nothing at the club a couple weeks back, Al," she began carefully. "That was practically- I mean- are you two-"
"What Katie is trying to ask," Angelina broke in in a drawl, "is are you fucking him? And why the hell didn't you tell us?"