Le Champignon Bleu occupies the ground floor of a renovated bank building, its art deco façade preserved but its interior transformed into one of the city's most exclusive dining establishments. Floor-to-ceiling windows provide a clear view of the main dining room, a tactical error in design that benefits me tonight. I position myself at a newspaper stand across the street, pretending to browse local headlines while my enhanced vision focuses beyond the glass.
Derek sits at a corner table, his back to the wall, his position offering him a view of the entrance—the instinctive seating choice of someone with secrets to protect. Olivia sits beside him rather than across, her chair angled toward his with an intimacy that confirms what I already know. Her hair falls in a sleek curtain around he
