Thane clears his throat. “It would help if you weren’t staring at her like she's the only person in this room."
He's not wrong.
I force myself to look away, to focus on literally anything else.
I motion for one of the passing waiters, depositing my empty champagne glass on his tray.
“Do you have anything stronger than this?” I ask the employee.
He blinks. “Like?”
“Scotch. Whatever you have that’s top-shelf.”
I slip the waiter a hundred and he nods and disappears.
Logan raises his own champagne glass. “Oh yeah, that’s the healthy way to go about it right now.”
“It’s the only way to go about it,” I answer.
But even as I say it, Iknow it's a lie.
There are a dozen ways to go about this night with Emma.
But I can only think of one.
An hour later, I'm trapped in a conversation with a chatty board member about market conditions when I feel someone's eyes on me.
I glance up and find Emma standing about twenty feet away.
Watching me.
Our gazes clash. And to my utter astonishment, she mouths something I can't quite catch.
She nods towards the balcony, and I understand the message instantly.
Let’s talk.
Now.
And I couldn’t agree more.
Excusing myself from the conversation, I wait for her to reach the balcony first.
Counting to sixty, I follow.
The balcony is thankfully empty, with everyone inside networking and drinking overpriced champagne.
And there she is.
Leaning against the railing. Her back to the door.
In the soft lighting, she looks exactly like she did in Miami.
Nervous. Defiant.
Beautiful.
“So.” She tucks a strand behind her ear, then lets it fall. “Confession time. I had no idea ‘Don’ was short for Donovan Titan until Carmen said your last name. Which, in my defense, sounds like a comic-book alias.”
