Nine Hours and an Umbrella

Chapter 1: Dance

I had gone to the party with one firm intention: I would stay for an hour, speak to a few people, and leave before anyone persuaded me to dance.

Then he walked into the room.

Everyone knew him—or at least everyone behaved as though they did. People turned when he laughed. Conversations seemed to open for him before he reached them. He carried himself with the easy confidence of someone who had never spent an evening wondering what to do with his hands.

I noticed him immediately.

That annoyed me.

I was still pretending not to watch him when he appeared beside me.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.

“I only met you twenty minutes ago.”

“And you’ve avoided me for at least nineteen of them.”

I tried not to smile. “Maybe I’m very efficient.”