"The back room," Margo repeated, turning her head toward the space. It was dark; the whole shop was dark. It had seemed like tempting fate to have it all lit up. She had spent her time there sitting in a corner, illuminated only by her phone. And now she couldn't quite remember where she had put that – it wasn't in her pocket, and it hadn't been on the counter.
Her attention was drawn back by the sound of his fingers brushing the chains hanging. "Careful," she warned. "There's silver..." She herself had already been warned about exposing other employees to the metal. So she slid a half-step closer, a considerable amount in the small space. In the next moment, Byron had closed the rest of the distance. Her eyes ticked up to him, a little more clear without his mesmerism influencing her mind. "How it feels?"