Re: Cam, open to Mischa (and Allegra?)
"Didn't your Mama ever teach you not to whale on girls?" A bright, faintly British voice laughed in Cam's ear. Long legs and short blond hair poured into Sean's vacant spot with the unconscious ease of an alley cat.
If Allegra had any intention of "dressing up" for the party, the thought certainly never made as far as her actual wardrobe: motor boots, construction jeans, and a men's Oxford with the tails tied high to show a long, smooth expanse of flat tummy. It should've looked cheap, or common, or lazy.
It didn't.
"This is cute," she commented, craning her neck to observe the noise. "Sort of MTV launch slash Marc Emery's secret Tupperware party mash up. Only complaint?" Allegra waggled a can of beer, its contents sloshing gently. "Anything not on tap ain't worth tasting." Nonetheless, she punctuated the statement with a swallow.
"So I'm thinking we started off on the wrong foot, you and I, Harper. Totally my bad." Beer balanced between her knees, Allegra reached into her shirt's pocket for a cigarette pack and a very expensive looking lighter. She clicked it open and tapped out a cig, lighting up in a fluid motion that announced a long, beloved habit. "That said, you've got my deepest apologies for any unflattering, dastardly notions cast upon my sister's gene pool. Unless it concerns our mother who is in fact voluntarily insane." She paused and arched her brows--exactly like Mischa. "Little weird that your girlfriend never mentioned being half of a double act, though."