Chapter 4: When Will You Sign Them?

Audrey’s POV

I stood before the ornate double doors of the hotel, feeling Astrid’s approving gaze on my red dress. The silk fabric whispered against my skin with each breath, its deep crimson a far cry from the conservative designer pieces I used to wear as Mrs. Parker.

“See?” Astrid’s voice held a note of triumph. “I always said you were made for these bold, sexy looks. You used to be so concerned about the ‘proper Parker wife’ image, always wearing those conservative designer pieces…” She adjusted the strap of my dress with a satisfied smile. “They never suited you!”

I met her eyes. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

The words came out stronger than I expected, carrying the weight of my decision. Three years of trying to fit into the Parker family mold, of dulling my own light to avoid outshining others – it felt like shedding an ill-fitting skin.

“Ready?” Astrid squeezed my hand.

I took a deep breath, feeling the fabric shift across my exposed back. “As I’ll ever be.”

The doors opened, and we stepped into the sea of designer evening wear and polite society laughter. The annual LA Jewelry Guild gala was in full swing, with the who’s who of the industry mingling under the warm lighting. I felt the subtle shift in attention as we entered – the pause in conversations, the sideways glances, the whispered speculations about the woman in red who dared to stand out.

Let them look, I thought. Let them wonder.

I’d just finished a waltz with a visiting Swiss watchmaker when a familiar voice caught me off guard.

“Audrey?”

I turned to find James Collins watching me with a mix of surprise and appreciation. He looked exactly as I remembered from our Parsons days – tall, elegant, with that gentle intelligence in his eyes that had once made my heart skip a beat.

“James!” The smile that spread across my face was genuine. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He gestured at the dance floor with an easy grace. “Since we’ve met here, shall we? We can catch up while we dance.”

feeling the familiar comfort of

as we moved across the

surprised by the warmth in my

shame. Your talent was

myself remember simpler times. Design classes at Parsons, coffee breaks between lectures, James’s patient guidance when I struggled with technical drawings. Before I became Mrs. Parker. Before I

lights dimmed after the MC’s announcement. A spotlight began its lazy sweep across the dance floor, and

have it out for me

spotlight find its target across the room, “looks like fate has other

spotlight as us. He looked impeccable

seemed to come from far away. “Are

lips into a smile, even as

through the speakers: “Couples in the spotlight, please

be ex-husband, I reminded myself. On

Not anymore.

settled on my

I said politely, maintaining the precise distance required by proper dance

held no warmth. “So formal? You seemed much more… intimate with

voice light, even as his fingers dug into

twitching in his jaw.

the concerned husband

in perfect sync. From the outside, we probably looked like any

to dance like this?” he asked suddenly. “I don’t recall country

gave a fake smile. “There are still many things about me that you don’t know,

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