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"You're surprisingly good at this," she notes as we move seamlessly with the music.

"I've had practice," I admit."Mandatory cotillion classes at boarding school."

"Of course you went to cotillion.Let me guess—you excelled at the quadrille."

"I was passable.My true specialty was the Gay Gordon."

"Is that a real dance or are you making that up?"

"Scottish country dance.Very vigorous.Lots of spinning."

"Spinning, huh?"Her brown eyes sparkle behind her mask."I'd like to see that sometime."

"Perhaps at Connor's party," I suggest before I can think better of it.

Her step falters slightly."You want me at Connor's engagement party?"

I hesitate, suddenly aware of the implications."It would maintain our narrative consistency," I say carefully."For the Guardian angle."

"Right, sure.Professional continuity."

But something in her expression suggests she's no more convinced than I am.

The song ends, and we remain standing close together, neither quite ready to break the connection.

"Callum," she begins softly.

My phone vibrates in my pocket—once, twice, three times in rapid succession.I ignore it.

"Yes?"I prompt.

Whatever she might have said is interrupted by another vibration, this one more insistent.With a muttered apology, I check the screen.

Three texts from a number I haven't seen in months.

RICHARD:Heard about your viral stardom, big brother.Quite the sensation you've caused.

RICHARD:Also heard you've been spending time with my ex.Moving in on my leftovers?Not very gentlemanly.

RICHARD:Anka and I are wrapping up our Icelandic adventure.Might be heading back to Seattle soon.

The messages land like ice water down my spine.I stare at the screen, aware of Karina watching me with growing concern.

"What is it?"she asks.

I lock the screen, forcing my expression to remain neutral."Nothing important."

"You've gone pale," she observes."Not nothing."

I hesitate, then decide on honesty."Richard.He's apparently considering a return to Seattle."

Her expression shifts from concern to alarm."He can't possibly think he still has a job."

"No," I say, tucking my phone away."But he seems to think he has unfinished business here."

She searches my face."What kind of business?"

"He didn't specify."I offer her my arm again."Nothing worth discussing tonight."