A FEW YEARS BEFORE
I sigh in amidst the welcoming silence, grateful for the chance to escape, even if only momentarily, the murmur of conversations heard on the other side of the door. For all intents and purposes, the people having these conversations are technically my guests, but that doesn't mean I have to like them or even feel comfortable around them. Fortunately, Dane was sympathetic enough to my need for relief, and let me do this simple job for him.
The clicks of my high heels are the only sounds coexisting with my thoughts, categorically scattered, as I glide through the vacant backstage hallways of the old theater I rented for tonight's event. I quickly reach the old dressing room and collect the lists that Dane had put together and forgotten in our chaotic pre-party cleaning
