Marina gives Sloane’s hand a squeeze, then heads for one of the bars, and I follow, keeping to the fringes of the room.
By the time I come up behind her, she’s chatting up the bartender I overtipped. I can’t see what she’s saying, but his response is easy to read. “One glass of champagne, and one glass of sparkling water.” Sparing me a quick glance as he sets the two drinks on the bar, he adds, “Another club soda and lime, sir?”
“Yes, please.”
Marina reaches for the drinks, but I stop her by brushing my hand to her upper arm. “Clive sent me.”
“Oh, thank God,” she says once she turns around and gets a look at me, but her relief quickly turns to panic. “Crap. Sloane doesn’t know… … … … pissed.”
“Slow down. I’m mostly deaf, Marina. I read lips. And I’m well aware Sloane doesn’t know anything about me.” Accepting the club soda from the young man behind the bar, I pop another ten franc bill in his tip jar before leaning closer to him. “Can you pour fresh drinks for this lovely woman when she returns in just a couple of minutes? I need to steal her away, and warm champagne is—”
“A travesty,” the bartender says, then smiles. “Of course, sir.”
Leading Marina just out of Sloane’s eye line, I almost lose half my drink when she slaps my arm. But since she hit my left arm, she’s the one flinching. “What the hell?”
Great. I wasn’t planning to admitallmy damage less than two minutes after introducing myself, but there’s no way around it now. “Might not want to do that a second time. Titanium’s nearly indestructible.”
“Wait. Clive sent a deaf man with onlyone armto protect Sloane? I’m going to murder him. Slowly. Or better yet, tell his mother what he did.” The petite woman in front of me looks like she could go full nuclear any moment, and I freeze, torn between intense anger and shame. Until I remember Austin’s words.
“If all I needed was muscle—two good arms, two good ears—I could find that anywhere. This job needs more. It needs your instincts. Your training.”
“Go ahead. Call Clive. I don’t give a shit. His boss and my boss sent me here because I know what the fuck I’m doing.” Transferring my drink to my left hand, I take a sip, the fingers steady and smooth—like they always are when I’m angry. “I lost my hearing and my arm. Not my mind. Not my skills. See that guy standing at the windows directly across from us?”
Marina turns her head briefly, then meets my gaze again. “Yes.”
“He’s former military. Israeli if I had to guess. Loaded. Also, completely uninterested in the female models. The guys on the other hand… He’d like to bang at least two of them. The six-foot-four blond in the white suit and the even taller blond wearing a bowtie who hasn’t stopped staring back at him all night.”
Marina gapes at me.
“Want me to go on? Sloane wants nothing more right now than for you to come back and find a way to get her the hell out of the conversation she’s been having with those three assholes for a full—” I check my watch, “—thirty-seven minutes. The guys are harmless—Beauty and Styleexecs. I memorized their photos on the plane. I don’t know why Sloane’s uncomfortable, but she is. So get those fresh drinks and make excuses for her. She has to mingle, needs to use the powder room. Anything. And figure out how and when you’re going to tell her about me so I can stop hiding in the fucking shadows and do my job.”
I know I’m being harsh. Too harsh. But Marina knows what Clive and Second Sight do. And while I’d probably be just as concerned if our positions were reversed, I’m the guy who’s here, and I’m not leaving until the threat against Sloane is neutralized.
“Meet us at our suite in an hour,” Marina says, though she doesn’t look me in the eyes. “I’ll tell her as soon as we can make our excuses and leave the party.”
Nodding, I watch the woman sashay back to the bar, wait for fresh drinks, and return to her friend’s side. The relief on Sloane’s face is almost immediate, and she links her arm with Marina’s before the two make their way to another one of the cocktail tables halfway across the room.
Sloane’s tired. Her shoulders hunch inward for a quick moment until the mask of the woman of the hour slides back into place. Then, she laughs at something Marina says, and I start to relax. Time to find another shadowy hiding spot.
* * *
Sloane
“I hate this part of the job,” I whisper, leaning down so I’m close to Marina’s ear. “At least on the runway or during shoots, I get a few breaks from being ‘always on.’ Here? It’s nonstop.”
“I know, sweetie. But we can probably get away with leaving in half an hour or so. After all, we flew all night, and they certainly don’t want you looking like a zombie for the press tomorrow.” Marina smooths a lock of my hair, twirling it around her finger to reset the curl before she scans the room. “Who else do youneedto talk to?”
“Besides Max?” I check my phone, trying to hide my disappointment that hestillhasn’t texted me. Or shown up here. “Just theBeauty and Stylephoto selection committee. I think I saw the chairwoman head for the patio.”
“Then let’s get some fresh air and find her.” Marina takes a sip of her champagne, then sets the drink down before taking my hand. “Ugh. I remember why I so rarely have champagne. I can feel the headache starting already.”
Searching her face, I’m shocked at the weariness in her eyes.
“If you want to go back to the room, I’ll be fine alone. You should have eaten more earlier. Just becauseIhave to watch my calories all weekend doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.”
She clenches her jaw to fight off a yawn but isn’t completely successful. “I’ve got another hour in me. And don’t worry. When you’re posing for the press tomorrow, I’m going to have the biggest Swiss breakfast womankind has ever seen. That’s the plan, at least. Assuming a traditional breakfast here isn’t something like blood sausage and haggis.”
“Well, that would be Ireland and Scotland, I think, so you should be safe,” I say, chuckling. “And I expect you to tell me all about it. Because the morning after the gala? I plan to eat everything in sight.”
