The charity dinner was a sea of black tuxedos and shimmering sequins. The atmosphere was thick with pretension and the smell of expensive lilies. I stood at the edge of the ballroom, nodding politely to a group of lobbyists, my mind entirely focused on the woman standing across the room.
Genevieve was wearing a dress of gold lamé that looked like liquid sunlight. She was talking to her father, a tall, stern man with a face like a granite slab. Every few seconds, she would glance over her shoulder at me, a tiny, secret smile touching her lips.
It was a torture of the highest order.
The Mayor stepped up to the podium, the room falling into a hushed silence.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention..."
As the Mayor began his droning speech about urban renewal, Genevieve sub
