Sophia stepped inside the softly lit boutique, the quiet hum of quiet jazz wrapping around her like a velvet cloak. The scent of sandalwood and fresh fabric filled the air, calming yet intoxicating.
Nate was already there, casually leaning against the fitting room doorframe, arms crossed, wearing that effortless charm that made her stomach flip even now.
“You’re punctual,” he teased, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Unlike some people,” she shot back, folding her arms. “I like to keep a little control.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Including making your own way here instead of letting my driver pick you up?”
Sophia met his gaze steadily, but didn’t answer. Instead, she reached for the delicate gown draped over the mannequin, fingers brushing the silk. “No need to be salty about it .
