I picked up my glass of sparkling water, felt the condensation on my palm, and took a slow sip.

Later, as a jazz band started and the networking began in earnest, Vanessa bumped the back of my chair on purpose.

She leaned down, her perfume making my stomach churn, her bleached hair brushing my shoulder.

“Daniel told me you don’t even have a real career, Evie,” she whispered, glossy lips curved into a pout that never reached her cold eyes. “Something clerical with the government, right?

Pushing papers in a gray cubicle? It must be so boring compared to the high-stakes deals we negotiate.”

“Something like that,” I said, evenly.