The bell above the door gave a soft, traitorous chime that sounded like an alarm to Alex’s ears. He needed to be a shadow. He needed the world to look past him, to see only a man running an errand, not the person he truly was. He told himself to breathe, but the air in the boutique was thick with the scent of expensive roses and something sharp, like ozone. The walls of lace and silk were no longer dreamy; they were watch...