Blanche's POV
Vincent glanced back—I was still lost in the thick of the crowd, leaning forward, completely captivated by the acrobats spinning through the air.
He slipped away to the palm reader, negotiating quietly before sliding seven hundred dollars into the man's palm.
When he returned, the acrobats had finished their final bow, and the crowd began to scatter. I turned around, searching through the faces, my forehead creasing when I couldn't find him.
Then someone tapped my shoulder. "Hey, Blanche—lose somebody?"
I whirled around to find him standing there, a necklace resting in his open palm.
He cocked his head, that warm, infectious grin lighting up his eyes as our gazes met.
My heart did a little skip at his smile, but I quickly looked away. "It's getting late already. We should head back."
Seeing me about to walk off, Vincent quickly caught my wrist. "Let's stick around a little longer."
I glanced down at his grip on my wrist. "Let go first."
