In the world of public relations, they called it the twenty-second rule. From the moment you stepped into hostile territory, you had twenty seconds to strategize. Twenty precious seconds to assess the scene, devise your spin, plan your exit, and take action.
Usually, twenty seconds was more than enough. Once, I had escorted a wealthy client down a fourteen-story fire escape wearing nothing but a poncho in under ten seconds.
But this wasn’t a typical client. The Reverie wasn’t an ordinary venue. And right now... right now, I’d trade anything for a fire escape.
Okay, Avy—game on. Twenty seconds starts... now!
I maneuvered through the crowd like an otter through choppy waters, chiffon billowing behind me. The clock was ticking, and I couldn’t afford to be polite or delicate. Thankfully, m
