Archie
The invitation had been sitting on my desk for two weeks, embossed and formal, the annual gala my company sponsored to benefit children's hospitals across the city, an event I attended every year out of obligation more than any real enthusiasm for the evening itself. Most years, I went alone, endured the small talk and the photographs, wrote a generous check, and left as early as decorum allowed.
This year, I found myself thinking about it differently.
I'd been seeing Fiona for a few weeks now, careful and unhurried the way she'd advised, through Thea, though she didn't know that particular irony existed. We'd had dinner twice more since the coffee shop, quiet evenings at smaller restaurants where the risk of photographers felt lower, conversations that kept deepening in ways I h
