Chapter 3

The party had wound down to its final embers. Only a handful of guests remained, scattered across the penthouse living room, nursing last drinks and murmuring goodnights. I stood near the entryway, my coat draped over my arm, pretending to check my phone while I watched him from the corner of my eye. He was saying goodbye to a couple near the door, his smile polished, his handshakes firm. But I saw the way his gaze kept drifting to me, the way his attention was divided, tethered to where I stood. When the couple finally left, the room fell into a hush. The jazz had stopped. The bartender was packing up. The night was ending. Except it wasn't. He crossed the room toward me, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. "Leaving so soon?" "I should." I held up my coat, a thin trench that did little against the late autumn chill. "It's late." "It's early." He took the coat from my hands before I could protest. "Let me help you with this." I turned, presenting my back to him, and felt the fabric settle over my shoulders. His hands lingered on the collar, smoothing the material, straightening the lapels.