Liam Livingston barely had time to let the velvet cushion of the chair meet his back before he felt the temperature in the immediate vicinity drop. Sophie Summers turned toward him, her expression a mask of clinical detachment, her eyes scanning him with the same disdain one might reserve for a smudge on a gallery wall.
"I’m sorry," Sophie said, her voice cool and carrying just enough volume to be heard by the surrounding tables. "But I was actually saving this seat for my old desk mate. I’d appreciate it if you could find somewhere else to sit."
Liam blinked, gesturing toward a woman sitting three tables away. "Jocelyn Zane? But she’s already settled in over there with the girls. I didn't think—"
Sophie’s brow furrowed, her nose wrinkling in a display of performative disgust. She lifte
