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She blushes like she's about to tell him to meet her upstairs.

I watch until I catch his gaze.

His brow furrows with confusion for a moment. Then he sees it:

I’m his former ally.

His almost lover.

A woman who might fuck him tonight if he plays his cards right.

I smile with the promise of later. Then I turn and sneak to the backyard.

Despite the buzzing party, it’s quiet out here. Only the low roar of the nearby waves and the moonlight bouncing off the pool.

I don’t usually need a minute to breathe during a simple operation at a party, but the cool air feels good on my skin.

I sit on one of the white loungers and watch the water dance. It’s inviting. I'm tempted to strip out of my cocktail dress and dive in.

That would make me seem like the sort of desperate woman who will fuck Yorgos.

Footsteps call my attention.

Matteo approaches with our drinks.

His eyes go to the pool. “I will if you will.” He sits on the lounger across me and smiles go ahead.

“You would never,” I say.

“Try me.”

I consider it for a moment. Take my drink instead.

Mmm. The perfect mix of quinine, lime, sugar, gin. Things just taste better when he's around.

“How do you want to play this?” I ask.

His eyes go to the pool. “It would get his attention.”

“Get us asked to leave,” I say.

“I saw the way he looked at you. He’ll be in touch if you make it easy.” His voice is matter-of-fact. He’s not remotely bothered by the thought of another man wanting to fuck me.

There’s a certain logic to the idea.

But Matteo would never. “You first.”

He takes off his jacket and sets it on this seat behind him. He pats the spot between his legs, asking for my foot.

“You just want to see up my skirt,” I say.

He smiles and bends enough to wrap his hand around my ankle.

I let him lift it into his lap.

He takes his time, tracing the leather, undoing the buckle, removing the shoe from my foot and placing it on the concrete.

Then the same with the other foot. Which isn’t fair. I’m in only my dress and he has all these layers.