Chapter 4

The air on the rooftop was thick, heavy with the scent of expensive cologne, chilled champagne, and the lingering humidity of a late summer night. Below us, the city sprawled like a circuit board of gold and white light, distant and indifferent, but up here, in the private nook we’d claimed for ourselves, the world had shrunk down to the size of our breaths. The event space was mostly empty now; the jazz band had packed up their instruments, the waiters moved with silent efficiency clearing the last of the silver platters, and the other guests had drifted away to the elevators or the lobby, leaving us in a bubble of exclusive luxury. I sat on the edge of a plush, white velvet cabane chair, my legs crossed loosely, one heel dangling from my toe. I had kicked off my heels twenty minutes ago, my bare feet resting on the cool stone pavers. The fabric of my silk slip dress clung to my curves, damp with the subtle sheen of sweat that had built up during the hours of small talk and polite smiles. It was a dress that cost more than most people’s cars, a deep emerald green that