The ballroom lights shimmered above us, casting a golden glow over the polished floor. Laughter and conversation swirled around me, but I sat alone at the table, my fingers tracing the rim of an untouched glass. My boyfriend had disappeared the moment we arrived, probably off networking or doing whatever he thought was more important than being here with me.

I sighed, glancing around—then stilled.

A woman in a suit stood a few feet away, hands in her pockets, shifting slightly like she wasn’t sure if she should come closer. Her tie was a little crooked, and she had the kind of posture that made her look both confident and completely out of place at the same time.

When our eyes met, she hesitated. Then, clearing her throat, she took a step forward.

“Uh,” she started, glancing at the empty seat beside me. “Is this, um—taken?”

I blinked. “No, go ahead.”

She sat quickly, like she was afraid I’d change my mind. For a moment, she just tapped her fingers against the table, clearly searching for something to say.

“You, uh… you looked kinda bored,” she finally settled on, voice quiet but earnest. “Figured maybe you’d wanna talk. Or, um. Not sit alone?”

I tilted my head, studying her. She didn’t seem like she was trying to flirt—not in the smooth, practiced way I was used to. If anything, she looked a little nervous, like she wasn’t sure if this was a good idea.

A slow smile tugged at my lips. “And here I thought you were gonna ask me to dance.”

She straightened slightly, blinking. Then, after a beat, she nodded. “I mean… I could.”

I huffed a small laugh, shaking my head. “I was joking.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” She exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. Then, with a small shrug, she added, “But, um… I wouldn’t be bad at it. If you wanted to.”

Something about the way she said it—so genuine, so awkwardly sincere—made my chest tighten.

I glanced at the dance floor, then back at her.

“My boyfriend wouldn’t like that,” I murmured, more to myself than to her, but then I look up at her with a small smirk