A woman whose tan looked far more natural than skin dyes could hope to achieve extricated herself from a small circle of Empyrean brand ambassadors to greet them. Her straight black hair was swept back from her heart-shaped face in a multitude of intricate braids threaded through with silver chains. The turquoise cocktail dress she wore was positively demure compared to some of the scantily clad guests Kyle observed milling about in the crowd. Her big brown eyes showed none of the starstruck idolization Kyle saw in the faces of those nearby who were staring atJamie.
“Captain Callahan, I’m Gwen Little Feather,” she said, extending her hand in greeting. The smile she gave Jamie was professional, not ingratiating. As the president of Empyrean’s brand outreach division, Gwen knew better than to fawn over any of the companyowners.
“Call me Jamie. No need for titles tonight,” Jamie replied, flashing her an easy smile. “Did my mother inform you of myrequirements?”
“Yes, sir. I have the guest list with me and can introduce you to whomever you like.” Gwen flashed the data rings on the fingers of her right hand, names briefly flickering into existence in thin air before disappearing. “Nearly everyone who accepted the invitation has arrived. Where would you like tostart?”
“With adrink.”
Kyle was all for that, and gamely followed Jamie to the long bar lining the wood-paneled wall to their right. The lounge was designed with a retro aesthetic that Kyle didn’t really care for—he didn’t need antique lamps, leather couches, and crystal drinkware to enjoy alcohol—but he wasn’t going to complain about the drinks they wereserving.
The bartenders knew Jamie on sight and the closest one promptly turned to serve them whatever drink Jamie wanted. Kyle gamely accepted his glass of Macallan fifty-year over a beer because that was some damn fine whiskey right there. Gwen demurred Jamie’s offer of a drink on the grounds she wasworking.
“So am I, but this,” Jamie held up his glass, the amber liquid sloshing against the side, “makes everything easier. Let’s go make therounds.”
Gwen gamely led the way through the crowd to the first person on the list Jamie needed to reach out to, for both Empyrean and the mission. Kyle didn’t know what criteria Jamie was judging the guests by before offering up a free consultation with Root Source, Inc., being sure to plug the Callahan connection, but it was far fewer people than he thought. He figured Jamie would tell him later, when they were alone, why he was holding back. Right now, Kyle’s job was to be arm candy, which he really didn’t mind. The less talking and bullshitting he had to do with the men and women who flirted with Jamie, thebetter.
If he managed to step on everyone’s toes who got too close to Jamie, well, Kyle never said manners were hisstrongsuit.
Jamie deftly handled every introduction and conversation, the star attraction of the night and the face of his family’s company. Most of the people present with pedigree names coyly tried to entice Jamie away with barely disguised promises of a fun time, ignoring Kyle’s obvious presence by his side. Kyle tried not to glower, but not even his glass of whiskey the servers kept full was enough to ensure agoodmood.
“I hate this,” Kyle muttered after the umpteenth person was sent on their way, disappointed that Jamie wasn’t going tofollow.
Jamie wrapped an arm around his waist and deftly guided him toward the grand staircase that led up to the rooftop garden. “Just a little longer, Ipromise.”
“You said that anhourago.”
Kyle knew he was whining, but the only thing he’d had to eat tonight was finger food, and he’d honestly kill for a steak rightaboutnow.
They reached the rooftop garden with its clear biodome making it easy to see the Manhattan cityscape. Kyle had a few seconds to take in the vine-covered trellises, flowers blooming out of season, and the maple trees stunted to sapling size in perpetual spring before an accented voice caught theirattention.
“Mr. Callahan, do you have a moment tospeak?”
The lightly Russian-accented voice belonged to a dark-haired woman decked out in a skintight crimson cocktail dress, sky-high heels, and a velvet evening clutch tucked under one arm. Her makeup was subtle while her hair was pulled back in a thick braid that fell over one shoulder all the way to her hips, threaded through with pearls and gold chains. She carried a leather-encased tablet with the Russian diplomatic seal embossed on the back of it in one hand. The double-headed golden eagle glinted softly beneath the floating lights above theirheads.
“You’re not on the list,” Gwen accused in a frosty voice, steppingforward.
The Secret Service special agents nearby immediately focused their attention on the woman. They seemed ready to haul her away for questioning when Jamie diffused the situation with an easysmile.
“It’s fine, Gwen. I’ll handle this. Would you give us a moment?”Jamiesaid.
Gwen looked reluctant to leave, still frowning at the probable party-crasher, while the special agents around them muttered into their comms about a possible security breach. But Jamie was nothing if not stubborn, and he managed to extricate them from the clutches of their minders in favor of finding a quiet corner in the rooftop garden tospeak.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Ms.—?” Jamie asked in a lowvoice.
“Yulia Lebedeva,” was her smooth reply. “I work out of the Russian Embassy here inManhattan.”
“I’m sureyoudo.”
Yulia’s smile turned a shade too-knowing for Kyle’s peace of mind. She was either an actual diplomatic aide—which he doubted—or an embedded Russian spy. Kyle raked his gaze up and down her body, tagging the razor-thin, flexible knives that fit against the bottom arch of her shoes and protruded a bit against the embellished gold on the heel itself, the silver wire bracelet that could double as a garrote, and the evening clutch big enough to carry a smallpistol.
Right. Spyitwas.
“You realize this is a private party?” Jamie said evenly, the party-boy façade having been wiped from his face andvoice.
“You realize the business arrangement you have with a, how do you say, mutual acquaintance, is not in your bestinterest?”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed at that question. Kyle’s gaze skimmed over the attendees milling around, more than one glancing their way. This wasn’t a conversation they should really have in the open.Jamieshouldn’t be the one having it, so Kyle cleared his throat and tookpoint.
