Class has already started, and Mac is standing at the front of the room, lecturing from behind the demonstration table. A contraption of coiled metal and wire takes up most of his workspace. As he talks, he paces back and forth, tossing an apple into the air. I break up Warren and Missy’s whisper...
This is always the dullest part of the gala. They’ll blab on for an hour at least. No one will notice we’re gone. We exit the ballroom and take a left, passing the bar and heading for the patio. He holds the door open for me, brushing my shoulder as I walk through. The night air raises goose bump...