SIXTEEN
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Grant had taken her to the party in the Grand ballroom and furnished her with a flute of champagne. Art told her to put the alcohol down, but with frayed nerves, she was hesitant to comply. At least she was until he reminded her the camera in her necklace would go into the ladies room with her if she needed to pee. After that, she stopped drinking and just used the glass as a prop.
Maintaining a distance from festivities, Zara chose to remain on the fringes of the room and not to interact. “I want to dance,” she said, keeping her back to the wall and her glass over her lips as she watched the glitterati mingle. “I wonder if my new boyfriend dances.”
She didn’t really want to dance, but she’d been here for nearly two hours and she imagined the men in the building opposi
