Chapter 4

The air in the private nook of the vintage fair still hummed with the residual energy of the night, though the main floor was emptying out. We had slipped away from the crowded dance floor, escaping the thumping bass and the jostle of bodies, retreating to a secluded corner near the back of the string-lit pavilion. Here, the chaos had distilled into something more intimate, more heavy with unspoken tension. It was a small alcove framed by towering stacks of leather-bound books and shelves of tarnished silver candlesticks, draped in gauzy white curtains that caught the warm glow of the paper lanterns hanging from the rafters. The floorboards beneath my feet were worn smooth by decades of footsteps, creaking softly under my weight as I shifted, my heels clicking against the wood. I stood near a display of antique mirrors, watching my reflection in the beveled glass. The vintage dress I’d chosen—a slip of midnight blue silk that clung to my curves like a second skin—had ridden up slightly during the dancing, revealing the smooth expanse of my thighs. My hair was a messy cascade of waves, pinned back haphazardly, a testament to the hours we’d spent moving to the