(Zara)
He crossed the room while the music was still finding its shape.
He didn't hurry. Sebastian never hurried. He moved through the crowd of donors and department heads the way water moves through a room it already owns. Every few steps someone caught his arm to say something, and he gave them a moment, then moved on, his path bending toward me the whole time. By the time he reached my table the slow song had settled over the ballroom. Half the floor had drifted toward the open space near the band.
"Ms. Morgan." His voice was pitched for anyone listening, easy and correct. "The donors from the Hale group are on the floor. It photographs well when the campaign lead and the company are seen together. Would you like to dance with me."
It wasn't really a question. It also wasn't really
