I didn’t know I would be wandering around a Christmas castle all alone, but that’s what ends up happening. Room after room, I see other people with their dates. I see a gorgeous blonde in a red backless dress standing close to a handsome man with dark hair. She’s facing him, teasing him, a telltale smile on her face. He touches her waist as if he has to exercise great restraint not to grab her and tug her even closer.

Loneliness drags me down just a bit, so I leave the room and try to find one with fewer people in love.

I wander through every room twice before I make my way back to the ballroom. When I do, Lee is still engrossed in conversation, standing in a group of three men.

I wander back out.

I find a mostly empty room, dimly lit with strands of white lights falling like snow from the high ceiling. There are a lot of places to be alone in this room—dark alcoves I see some people taking advantage of, and a bar set up on the other side of the room.

I don’t really want another drink, but there’s nothing else to do right now, so I head over to the bar to get one anyway.

“What’ll you have?” the bartender asks.

“Blinders,” I joke.

He cocks an eyebrow. “What’s in that one?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, just, uh… rum and Coke?”

He nods and gets to fixing my drink.

I move out of line once I have it and drift toward an unoccupied chaise lounge with a table beside it. I suppose I could sit there for a bit and check my phone while I enjoy my drink.

As I’m reaching into the clutch for my phone, someone sits down on the lounge chair near where I’m sitting. I glance up on instinct and see a handsome, golden-haired man in a sharp crimson and black tux. His watchful blue eyes are fixed on me in a way that unmistakably expresses he didn’t sit there by accident. I have the oddest urge to get up and apologize for taking up his space, only I sat down first, so that would be absolutely insane.

I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t seem to find any words.

The man’s perfect mouth quirks, but he looks unsurprised. Maybe he’s used to women getting tongue-tied in his presence.

“Hello,” he says.

There’s nothing like nervousness in his tone. His voice is deep, his tone cultured even just saying that simple word. He’s not out of place at a party like this one, that’s for sure.

“Hello.” My smile feels a bit timid, almost apologetic. I try to shake off this pervasive impulse to apologize for getting in his way.

If my slight discomfort bothers him, I certainly can’t tell.

“We haven’t met,” he states.