Sydney moved automatically to the edge of the room, where she could see other security staff standing by, staying out of the way of the guests while keeping an eye on everyone. Her gaze wandered from person to person before hitching on the one they were here for.
Mr. Seah stood near the edge of the balcony, speaking in an animated voice to a woman she recognized as Emika Chen, the CEO of Henka Games, who sported a rainbow-dyed bob and a sleek red jumpsuit, as well as Hideo Tanaka, the company’s director and her fiancé.
Seah looked relaxed and friendly—if he was indeed in on the assassination job, he certainly gave none of it away.
As if he’d heard her thinking about him, Tems’s voice came on unexpectedly in her earpiece. “Get closer when you can,” he said.
She fought to keep the scowl off her face. This was the other reason why she had this earpiece—to everyone else, Sydney was using it to communicate with her client, but to her, it was a line that Tems also had access to.
He was watching her through the box’s security cams, she knew. She didn’t look toward them, but she did purposely turn so that the cam could see her clearly.
“I’m not an amateur,” she snapped quietly.
“Just a friendly reminder,” Tems said. “See if you can focus on his jacket. I want to know if any of the medals on his decorated uniform give away a clue.”
“Working on it,” she muttered, and moved away from the wall, heading carefully through the throngs until she reached the edge of the balcony where the cabinet member was standing. Sydney kept her eyes on the stage down below, as if scanning the crowds and waiting for Winter to appear. Idly, she listened in on pieces of the man’s conversation.
“—to see such a large audience for the ceremony,” he was saying now to Emika Chen.
The woman nodded politely with her arms crossed as she stood close to her fiancé. “Yes, it helps to get a great opening act,” she replied.
“I hear he’s attending the prime minister’s gala?” asked Hideo.
“Yes,” Mr. Seah replied with a smile. “It’ll be quite the party with Mr. Young in attendance. Will you both…”
As the conversation went on, Gavi reappeared nearby, her dress gliding gently against the floor.
“Shrimp wonton?” Sydney heard one of the servers ask Gavi politely.
“Yes, please,” she said, then took a bite of her food and came to stand by the balcony, her gold earrings clinking.
“You like him,” she said without looking at Sydney.
Her words were enough to make Sydney turn from the stadium to face her. “Ma’am?” she asked.
“I know you were out on your balcony last night, having a nice nighttime chat with Winter,” Gavi said, popping the rest of the wonton in her mouth.
“We were discussing security for today,” Sydney answered.
“I’ve seen a million people fall for Winter. You think you’re immune?”
Careful,Sydney told herself. “I think you might be projecting your own feelings for Mr. Young onto others, ma’am,” she said.
Something about those words seemed to get under Gavi’s skin, and for an instant, the girl’s eyes flashed. She smiled at Sydney. “I think you might be doing the same.”
“Ma’am,” Sydney said in her most condescendingly professional tone, “it’s my job to take interest in everything about my clients, in order to keep them safe.”
Gavi smiled and looked back down at the stage. “I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself,” she replied. “You don’t need to give me the excuses—I’ve lived it. I know how you feel.” She leaned closer to Sydney. “Listen to me. Winter doesn’t do relationships—not the kind that you might want, at least. If you’re lucky, he’ll make you a part of his work. But you’ll always be second place to that work. So if you’re going to go after him, just have the fun. That’s all he is. Trust me.”
Sydney let her expression stay cool and unbothered as Gavi turned away. But the girl’s words buzzed in her head, stubborn and unrelenting, burrowing deep into her thoughts.
“Always dangerous to fall for your partner, isn’t it?” Tems said, his voice teasing.
Damn this earpiece, she thought. Gavi was still too close for Sydney to reply, but her hands closed so tightly against the railing of the box that the skin over her knuckles turned white.
At her silence, Tems went on. “I didn’t think superstars were your type, to be honest.”
Gavi finally moved far enough away, her attention now turned to Emika Chen. “He’s not,” Sydney whispered into her earpiece. “And I don’t think you know much about my type, Bourton.”
