e Nixo

es, and a dazzling array of bottles glinting under soft, strategic lighting. It was buzzing, even on a Tuesd

turned, and a few patrons politely parted ways. She led me to a plush, secluded corner bo

the house, and I mean anything." She winked at a passing bartender. "Lucas! Make sure Adeline

a kind smile, nodded gravely. "Unders

s. Bridgette always knew how to make me feel special. It was so dif

I said, sipping my champagne. "

ctically glowing. "But enough about me. Tonight is ab

me, not with anxiety, but with a flicker of genuine curiosity. There was a handsome man across the room, leaning casually against the bar, his dark hair falling over intense eyes. He lo

eeping up my neck. Portlan

ss of champagne, his smile w

who suddenly turned and met my gaze. My breath hitched. His eyes were a

d my gaze. "Ooh, who's caught your

led, trying to be casual, but my hea

ed up his drink and began to walk towards the restrooms,

standing up. "Come with me, I need to tell

e liqueurs. I waited for her outside the ladies' room, trying to pret

ding to examine a framed print on the wall. He paused

voice a little too loud, a litt

lips. His voice, when he spoke, was a low, melodic rumble, like w

seen someone like you in... well, a really long time." Especially not after

nt sound. "Thank you. I suppose I

ce. "So, what' s your story? Are you a mysterious artist? A reclusive writ

arly amused. "None of the

sor? Seriously? With those eyes? And that... voice?"

of humor in his tone. "L

, my mind reeling. "Wow.

tish novels," he replie

ed, trying to sound sophisticated. "Fascin

" He extended a hand,

a booth, and she makes the best cocktails in Portland." Before he could object, I took his hand and prac