Page 176 of The Sinner: James

Unhurriedly, I pick up the phone and check the time. I’m right on schedule.

The kitchen light stays on as I step out of the apartment.

I take the elevator down, saunter across the lobby, and walk past the concierge.

“Have a wonderful evening, Miss,” the doorman says, smiling as he holds the door for me.

I step outside and look up at the sky.

Flurries dance in the air, floating and twirling before getting whisked away by the wind.

It’s a perfect winter evening, as it used to be back in Colorado.

I lift the bottom of my gown and smoothly slip inside the car. The driver shuts the door and rushes to his seat.

Within moments, we glide away.

The traffic is light, so we move steadily to the destination and pull up in front of the venue a few minutes before nine.

Smoothly, I step out of the limo and climb the stairs leading to the entrance. An ocean of people fills the view the moment I slide into the lobby.

The foyer is vast, and the doors to the ballroom are wide open, yet no one rushes to walk inside.

A spiraling staircase takes the guests to the upper level, where clamor fills the air.

There is so much fervor. So many colors and sparkling lights. It’s a who’s who event, the women wearing runway evening gowns and the men sporting expensive tuxedos.

I scan the crowd, looking for my clients. Most men are accompanied by other people.

I single out a small group of men and head in that direction before I open my mantle discreetly, ensuring my necklace is in full view.

Heads turn, the men’s attention drawn to me by my blonde hair and red gown, but I read nothing in their eyes other than some casual curiosity.

Moving past them, I head to the stairs, where a few unaccompanied men wait at the top of the steps.

I keep searching when the back of a man catches my eye. Blonde hair, slightly longer at the back, rolling over the collar.

The man’s broad shoulders and confident stance look familiar.

He has a hand tucked in his pocket, his shoulders pulled back, and his posture relaxed while blocking another silhouette that catches my eye.

I crane my neck, trying to get a glimpse of the second man.

People move around, and the blonde man also pivots, blocking my view.

The second man’s back and dark hair register with me, though, and I notice his tall frame and muscular shoulders.

Something tightens in my chest.

My gaze lingers on them as they start a conversation with a couple nearby.

A male voice echoes behind me.

“May I help you, Miss?”

I spin around, a charming smile on my lips.

Swiftly, I search the man’s eyes and scan his face and cufflinks, looking for my cue.

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