“Oh God, no,” I moan. “I just need five minutes of peace and quiet.” “C’mere.” Ryder grabs my champagne flute and deposits it on the tray of a passing waitress, then takes my hand. The next thing I know, he’s whisking me across the ballroom toward the stage. There’s a curtained area on either side of it, blocking off the two sets of steps leading up to the wings. I blink, and suddenly we’re tucked behind the curtains. Enveloped in darkness.
