After forty-five minutes of shouted introductions, forced smiles, and endless head nodding, I excused myself and retreated outside for some air. I dug my phone out and texted Perrine. Do you wanna hang out? I think I’m going to cut out on this party early.

Perrine’s reply popped up just as I jogged back up the steps and into the bar to find Serena. Aren’t you on a date?

And then: Having dinner w Lola at 9, can stop by in a few first.

I sent a thumbs-up emoji in response.

“Hayes!” Serena waved me over to where she was wedged on the edge of a couch next to a gaggle of long-limbed model types.

“Hey!” I leaned down toward her, and she grazed a hand up my arm, smiling. When her hand reached my wrist, I flipped up my palm, entwining our fingers. A pang of guilt hit my gut—I should want to stay, but my desire to get the hell out of there was overpowering. “I’m gonna take off. I have an early breakfast meeting tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry this ended up being such a zoo,” she said with a sincerely apologetic look on her face. “Maybe we can do something just the two of us soon? I could even cook you dinner. Your place or mine.”

“I’d love that,” I said, though it felt more like I was going through the motions of what I was expected to say. I liked this feeling of being wanted, and Serena was charming and warm, and fun to be around. But whenever I was with her, it felt like I was waiting for some feeling to reveal itself, like a guest to a party who was running absurdly late.

She placed a small kiss on my lips, soft and warm, and I pressed back, trying to feel the connection I was so sure was supposed to be there. “Get home safe.”

*  *  *

Perrine leaned against the counter as I microwaved one of my delivery meals. Salmon with an almond-flour crust over green beans. Perfectly adequate. Possibly even good.

“It seems like a strange choice for a date,” she said, pondering. “Who invites a guy they just met to a friend’s massive birthday party?”

“Well, in her defense, she made it out to be more of a casual gathering. Maybe she didn’t know it was going to be so huge?”

“Or maybe that’s just what a casual gathering looks like to her.”

I shrugged. “I mean, going out seems to be part of her job. So she must like it.”

She peered over as I popped the container out of the microwave, steam rising as I mixed the vegetables with a fork. “There should be a law against microwaving fish,” she said with a grimace.