The woman in the gold dress on Dio’s other side had not spoken to him at all. She was busy talking animatedly to the man across from her.
A young woman sat down at table seven about twenty minutes into the meal. Her name was Sera. She was twenty-six, a journalist working for a financial news outlet that had covered the Rexton Group gala for three consecutive years. She had come through the media entrance and been assigned to table seven for the evening.
She noticed Dio immediately. She noticed the shirt was too large. She noticed the way the guests at the table had arranged themselves with small, careful distances between themselves and him. She looked at the old man and felt something she could not immediately explain.
Sera poured water into Dio’s glass without being asked.
He looked at her and thanked her quietly.
