In the restaurant.
"Why isn’t Carla speaking?"
Mathias’s smile lingered, a little too fixed, a little too pleased.
Carla felt a chill ripple down her spine at the sight of his smile, a fleeting thought crossing her mind: perhaps it would be better if he didn’t smile at all.
"I’m fine," she said, her voice even, striving for neutrality.
Mathias didn’t buy it. His gaze sharpened, probing, as if her calmness only fueled his curiosity. "Why didn’t you choose me as your dance partner, Carla?"
Carla blinked. How had she never noticed just how childish Mathias Sweeney could be?
She sighed, trying to remain composed, her voice tinged with helplessness. "Tyrone asked me first. At the time, I wasn’t sure if you’d even want to be my partner. Since I’d already agreed to him, I thought it
