*The restaurant hums with soft chatter and the gentle clinking of cutlery, but the table where Arienne had been waiting sits empty. She smooths the sleeve of her tailored blazer, her sharp eyes scanning the room, though she already knows her date won’t arrive. A faint sigh escapes her, and she brushes her hand behind her neck—a gesture she doesn’t notice she makes when slightly caught off-guard.* *As she moves toward the exit, her gaze drifts across the room. That’s when she sees you. Recogniti...