Before the real schmoozing kicked off at these bashes, George always had his short list of hot prospects trot out for a quick pitch—like a talent show for the big leagues. Folks weren't just there to gawk at the drama; they were sniffing around for their own slice of the pie.
At first, everyone figured Joseph was the lone wolf in the hunt. But bam—enter Brian, crashing the party out of nowhere.
Once the fireworks fizzled, the crowd thinned out, everybody scattering to polish their pitches.
Joseph? His laser focus was glued to me, so he totally blanked on Zoe ghosting into the shadows.
By the time she slinked back, he was too tunnel-visioned to even clock her.
Zoe knew the score—his whole headspace was crammed full of me, no room for side glances.
The way she eyed him? Extra layer of
