Broken promises

of neon lights casting soft glows on the wet pavement. It was the kind of night where

The Blue Orchid, a bar tucked away in a quiet corner of downtow

," she had scolded, dragg

fine staying in and wa

ot eighty. Come on, one

en, somewhere between the rim of his glass and th

handsome, with tousled dark hair and a sharp jawline, the kind of beauty that felt both classic and unattainable. Mitchell wasn't

s. A flicker of recognition,

g," Clara whis

am

are. Go ta

lutel

hy

m terrible

. "Good thing he's co

ed, a confident ease in his steps. He held a glass of whiskey

ce a deep, velvety timbre that sent an

Sure, but if you're trying to

to know. But no, just

el

chael echoe

t nothing and everything. About how Mitchell worked in publishing but secretly wanted to write. About how M

hell forgot how to be careful. He forgot the walls

g, Michael leaned in, his brea

ke you out

ant to, but because something about Michae

," he sa

t, the first chap