The weight of his stare.
Then Maya said under her breath, “Well, well.”
I dragged my eyes off him. “What now?”
Her smile widened, catlike and bright. “I think the bikers just noticed us.”
And something told me she was only half right.
Two
Emma
By the time the benefit started shifting from polite fundraiser to full-blown party, the room had changed completely.
What had been loud before was now chaotic.
Not bad chaotic.
Just… loose.
The kind of loose that happened when enough money had been raised, enough drinks had been poured, and enough people had decided the night no longer needed to behave like a charity event.
The line at the front bar had tripled.
Music pumped louder through the speakers.
Laughter cracked across the room in bursts.
Kids still ran between tables, though now they were sugared up and weaving dangerously close to adults carrying drinks. Chairs scraped over the floor every few seconds as people rearranged themselves. The air had gone warm from too many bodies packed into one space, andevery time the side door opened a little bit of cool evening air drifted in before getting swallowed up again.
I checked the time on my phone and frowned.
5:46 p.m.
Almost six.
“Raffles should start soon,” Maya said, lifting her tequila drink and glancing toward the little stage where someone was fiddling with the microphone.
“Good,” I said.
I’d bought too many raffle tickets.
Way too many.
At first it had been one sheet just to support the cause.
Then another because of the kids’ baskets.
Then another because of the baking basket.
Then somehow I’d crossed into territory where I actively did not want to know the total amount I’d spent.
Unfortunately, I did know, because I had glanced at my banking app in a moment of weakness.
Three hundred and twenty dollars.
On raffle tickets.
