Sophia tried very hard to pretend the last thirty seconds hadn’t happened. The music still thundered below. Confetti drifted like lazy snow. Dominic was still screaming the chorus like a banshee auditioning for Broadway. None of it mattered.
Because Christoph Richter had arrived.
With another woman.
And he had looked at her like that.
She needed to retreat before her face betrayed her soul.
“Retreat,” Dominic yelled over the beat. “Girl, we must retreat before your facial expression becomes a war crime.”
“I am fine,” Sophia insisted, even though she felt like spontaneous combustion was a real possibility.
“You are vibrating,” Dominic said with clinical concern.
“Emotionally vibrating,” Donita added, materializing beside them like a sparkly gremlin.
Mae placed a steady hand on Soph
