Chapter 39. Let’s Call It an Icebreaker

Layla Martine pushed through the throng of bodies at Sullivan’s, her platinum curls bouncing with each deliberate step. The scent of expensive perfume and polished wood mingled with the faint aroma of whiskey and citrus from the bar, filling the dimly lit room with a sophisticated haze. She maneuvered herself to a quiet corner with a clear line of sight and settled against the dark mahogany bar, the polished surface cool beneath her fingertips. Her sharp gaze cut across the crowd, landing squarely on Camila Martinez, who was laughing heartily with a group of friends. The rich amber glow of the overhead lighting caught the highlights in Camila’s hair and the shimmer of her dress, illuminating her like the centerpiece of a painting.

“Can I get you something?” the bartender asked, raising an eyebrow as he took in Layla’s designer dress and poised demeanor.

“Champagne. The best you’ve got,” Layl