Avery was smiling, but it was a smile thinly coated with a veneer of civility.
Underneath that, it was all disdain.
Polite, sure, but also dismissive, like the kind of smile you gave the shoeshiner who polished your boots.
Micah searched his memory, but could not think of an incident where he’d, probably inadvertently, offended Avery.
He shifted his attention to Darya, who was busy examining the ballroom.
After the initial glance, she didn’t pay him the slightest attention.
Micah’s gaze flickered to her arm, interlinked with Avery’s.
Their physical proximity and body language spoke of intimacy, of familiarity, and it made Micah frown.
He couldn’t recall the last time Darya had gotten that close to him.
Who was Avery to her?
Were they dating?
Had she moved
