Page 21

Just first names. No last names. No explanations. Somehow, that makes it easier. Lena asks if I'm alone here tonight, and I make an excuse for Pete and work.

She nods in commiseration and elbows the man at her side. "He would never dare," she whispers loudly, making me giggle.

Conversation flows effortlessly after that. We talk about the orchestra, the food, and Vegas. Everyone laughs. No one asks where we work or what we do. We're strangers. And we'll always stay that way. There's something freeing about that. After a while, I excuse myself to go find the bathroom. The hallway leading to the restrooms is quieter, lined with mirrors and soft golden lighting. When I step inside the ladies' room, I stop again. Because even the bathroom looks like something out of a movie.White marble counters stretch across the room, polished so perfectly they reflect the chandeliers above. Tall mirrors framed in gold line the wall. A woman in a crisp maid's uniform stands near the sinks.

When I finish washing my hands, she steps forward and hands me a warm, folded towel.

"Th-hank you," I stutter, a little startled.

She smiles politely. Along the counter sits a row of crystal bottles filled with perfume. Real perfume. The kind I've seen locked behind glass at department stores. I recognize one brand immediately. I know for a fact that the bottle costs more than my monthly car payment. I stare at them for a moment, amused. Tonight really does feel like I've stepped into someone else's life. A richer one. A shinier one. On a dare I make with myself, I pick up the bottle and spray some on me. As I put it back, I wonder if I should tip the towel lady, but since my wallet is now empty, it's a moot point. I settle for a small smile and make my way back to the dining room.

When I step back into the hallway, a man is waiting for me.

"Audra." My name rolls from his lips in a low, dark tone that sends a sudden flutter through my chest.

I stop. For a second, I just stare at him. He's tall—well over six feet—and the tux fits him like it was designed specifically for his body. His shoulders are wide in a way that has nothing to do with tailoring or padding. They're wide because they're real. Because the man underneath the tux is built like he could break things without much effort.

His face is obscured by a mask, but the piercing blue eyes behind it take me in with an intensity that sends chills down my spine. He stands perfectly still. Watching me. His gaze hits me like heat. My skin flushes instantly.

"Do… do I know you?" I ask.

He shakes his head slowly. "Unfortunately, no." His voice is smooth and deep. "I simply wanted to make sure you're enjoying your evening."

My knees do something strange. They haven't done that since high school. They weaken. My pulse kicks up, racing for no reason I want to acknowledge. This is bad. Very bad. The effect this man has on me is instant and dangerous.

"I'm married," I blurt out.

Smooth, Audra. Very smooth.

His head lowers slightly, almost like a respectful bow. "Happily," he nods, and my breath catches. "I know." He leans just a fraction closer. "A fact I very much rue," he murmurs quietly, "but respect. Although," his right eyebrow arches, "your husband seems to be missing tonight."

"He had to… work," I mumble.

His breath brushes the side of my neck. Warm. A line of goosebumps races down my arms. I step back quickly. My heart is pounding now. I look at him again. Those eyes. Sharp. Icy blue. And suddenly it hits me. "You were there." His other brow lifts slightly. "At the police station," I add.

He smiles. And God help me, dimples appear in his cheeks. My stomach flips violently. I twist my wedding band around my finger, grounding myself.

"You seem to have a talent for memorable entrances," he compliments lightly. "First, the police station." His eyes flick briefly toward the ballroom doors. "And now a royal masquerade."

The way he looked at me then was just as intense and heated as now. I swallow. "I should get back to my table."

Something shifts in his gaze. Not anger. Not disappointment. Acceptance.

"Of course," he nods, taking a step back, freeing the path that leads back to the ballroom.

"Enjoy the evening, Audra."

The way he says my name spreads goosebumps over my body. I don't respond. I just turn and walk—quickly—back toward the ballroom. My pulse is still racing when I reach the table.

Lena looks up immediately. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I slide back into my chair. But as I reach for my glass of wine, my hand trembles. Because somewhere behind me, in that quiet hallway, I can feel the man still standing there. Watching me.

My heart is still racing. Too fast. Faster than it should be for someone who hasn't moved more than a few steps. And that's the problem. It's not fear. Not shock. It's the opposite. It feels like… recognition. Like something in me had been waiting to see him again.

For the first time since I met the mystery man, a thought slips in, quiet and serious.Is Pete really right for me?

The question sits heavy in my chest. But it's no more than the honest truth: would I be feeling like this about another man if I truly loved my husband?