Looking around at the mostly empty boutique, I clock two other women showing phones to customers, and one woman staring at us from behind the cash desk. That one looks at me with keen interest in her Botox-frozen face. With the subtlety that comes from hiding most of my life, I nudge Fox to draw his attention to the woman staring at me. There’s no way I’m dumb enough to get involved with a man known for his ability to murder people in groups and not make him aware of the people giving me too much attention.
