Well, they’re not lies, per se. All my accomplishments are real. I worked hard for them. Problem is, I promised eight years ago to give them all away in the blink of an eye if I bumped into him again. But back then, I wasn’t the same person I am today. I was lost. Grieving. Broken. Confused. Not that it matters, because that was then, and this is now, and it’s not him I’m staring at. Nope. There’s no way. It’s not. …Then why can’t I tear my eyes from the mysterious stranger who glides through the doors of The Beerchman Hotel’s ballroom, turning every head along the way?
