“I'm so sick of this. I can't wait to get the hell out of here.”
"Smile, Tamara," Andrew whispered in my ear.
His fingers dug hard into my arm like iron clamps. He dragged me into the middle of the ballroom. Camera lights flashed in my eyes, blinding me over and over. I tried to look happy, but my whole body was shaking.
I did not look at the photographers. I looked past them, searching the dark corners of the party.
Then I saw him.
Derek was standing by the heavy red curtains thirty feet away. He wore a dark suit and held a glass of champagne. When he saw me looking, he raised his glass in a fake toast.
Then, he pulled one finger across his neck in a silent threat. A second later, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
My heart slammed against my ribs. The air left my lungs all
