Soft gold lights swept across the white walls, highlighting paintings that looked like chaos, brilliance, or accidental genius depending on who you asked. A low hum of classical music floated through the room, a stark contrast to the bass-heavy club Sofia was used to. She tightened her grip on her small purse as Scott held the door open for her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning slightly toward her.
“Yeah,” she said with a small smile. “Just mentally preparing myself to pretend I understand art.”
Scott laughed. “Don’t worry, half of the people in here are pretending too.”
He placed his hand lightly on her lower back as they stepped inside. The crowd looked expensive, shimmering dresses, tailored suits, polite laughter that never rose too loud. Sofia swallowed, adjusting her dress. She
