GARRISON

The mattress shifted under my weight as I leaned back against the carved mahogany headboard. The encrypted tablet rested heavily on my thighs.

The pale blue light from the screen was the only light in the pitch-black room, casting sharp shadows across the heavy velvet curtains.

Beside me, Roxie didn’t move. She sat cross-legged on the white duvet, almost lost inside her oversized gray cashmere sweater. Her knees touched mine beneath the dark wooden frame.

Honestly, being this close to her was slow torture.

Every time she leaned closer to check a number, the soft scent of her vanilla perfume mixed with the fresh smell of the New York...