Michael's POV
I swept my gaze across the elegant ballroom, seeking the familiar figure of Allyson. She had slipped away to the restroom some time ago, yet her absence stretched longer than expected. An uncomfortable knot formed in my stomach.
I tugged at my cufflinks, then caught sight of movement across the crowded space. Reagan stood engaged in conversation with a brunette woman. Her hair cascaded in loose waves, and the emerald fabric of her dress caught the chandelier light in a way that made me think of Allyson.
My pulse quickened. Could it be her?
The lighting made it difficult to tell for certain. I pushed through the clusters of guests, my steps urgent with the need to know. Just as I approached, the woman melted back into the crowd of party-goers. Reagan positioned himself directly in my path, cutting off my line of sight.
"Reagan." I kept my voice level despite the frustration building inside me. "I thought I noticed you talking with someone just now."
