DAMIAN
I was oddly tense, and I didn't know why. Or maybe I did, and I was trying to shelve my feelings. Perhaps if I didn't acknowledge them, they would fade away. Beside me, Anton was droning on and on about all he had gotten up to with the Paris model, now in his employ. Anton, naturally, was an excellent conversationist and a good storyteller, and usually, I would be neck-deep in his stories, laughing and asking for more details.
But not today.
"Hey, Damian. Are you even listening to me?"
His enquiry brought me back to the present. I nodded and forced my facial muscles to relax into a smile.
"Of course I am," I replied. "Go on. And the fashion shows you went to? Did you get any new design ideas?"
I had said the right thing. Anton's eyes lit up in excitement. He continued talk
