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“Shut it,” I replied, only half concentrating on Tristan as my gaze caught a woman in a white dress, strands of treacle-colored hair tumbling down her back. She was carrying a glass of champagne and an old-fashioned reporter’s notebook, though she was focused on neither as she squeezed by us, nearly tipping alcohol over Gabriel’s very expensive jacket. “It was fifteen years ago and I was asleep,” I said as the woman passed. I tracked her as she headed toward one of the display cases, where her face lit up with a huge smile as she took in a pair of earrings my parents had produced to go with
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A conspicuous trail of empty champagne glasses led to the woman in the white dress, who was standing in front of the earrings my parents had produced for the queen’s wedding. “Okay. I won’t be long,” I said, heading in the direction of the earrings. The woman in white seemed to be the only person in the room focused more on jewelry than socializing, and by my standards, that meant she was someone worth getting to know.