Chapter 27 False Smiles

• Hannah
• After politely excusing myself from the cluster of council members’ wives, I made a beeline for the bar. My throat felt parched, an anxious dryness brought on by Noah’s lingering presence even after he had departed. The flute of champagne was already growing warm in my grip, and I certainly couldn’t drink it.
• Sidling up to the sleek marble counter, I caught the bartender’s eye. “Could I get a sparkling water, please?” I asked, sliding the champagne flute toward him.