"Champagne?"

It seems strange being on the other end of things. Normally, I'm the one stuck with handing out champagne to guests, but now I'm the recipient.

I'm too stunned by the question that Thomas answers for me. "We'll pass for now."

Thomas and I wander around Cato's outdoor courtyard, the both of us camouflaged in our elegant attire. I recognize a few celebrity faces—some well known, and some who think they are well-known—but none of importance to us. I spot Audwin and Evelyn conversing with what looks like Gemma's father, Frank Patton. Thomas notices them as well, and briskly spins me away, keeping his body close and arm wrapped around my back.

The last we need is my cover to be blown because Cato's parents recognize me. It'd certainly break a level of trust I've spent twenty-one years building.

He leans into my ear, kissing it with such a delicate brush that I close my eyes. "You good, daffodil?"

"It just doesn't feel right," I mutter. "I don't belong in this place, and I feel like everyone knows I'm a fraud."

"You're not," he assures. "Well, maybe a little, but one look at you and they'll forget their doubts about you."

"Someone will recognize me," I breathe, taking a quick glance in Evelyn's direction.

"Yes, and the only person that will notice will be Cato," he steps close to me, setting his hands on my arms. His rough palms rub upwards and down, leaving traces of heat in their wake. "There's a secret pocket on the inside of the skirt of your dress, since Rina thinks that 'all dresses should have pockets'. I snuck a memory stick in there so you can copy Cato's computer files once you get into his study. All you have to do is plug it in. It's preprogrammed to automatically download the files."

I raise a brow curiously. "And how'd you manage to do that?"

"You didn't notice because I was too busy fucking you with my ton—"

"Thomas," I hiss while I playfully smack his chest.

It's enough to bring out his mischievous smirk that I adore. It's enough to settle my nerves.

"If tonight doesn't go as planned and you don't end up getting the files, I have an alternate plan set in place. I just need you to keep Cato distracted. All my teams' eyes are on you."

"I thought it was just us," I whisper. "You have more people here?"

"I told you I have men in every sector of the city."

I nod my head, although my stomach twists at the idea of seducing Cato. Cato's given me enough evidence of the attraction set between us, but is it enough for him to act on it? Before I knew about Gemma, the task to seduce Cato seemed much simpler, but now I have to navigate around his fiancé.

I need to make him believe that I am still his, that those stolen kisses behind the bedsheets meant something. My doubts about Cato's ambitions still hurt like a constant blister, because he's only left me with heartache.

Yet, stealing information from him seems so wrong, even though I convinced myself it's like sweet revenge.

Oh, the complicated life of a seductress.

Thomas begins small talk with some of the guests, and it's evident that this gala isn't his first. He blends in with the crowd better than I ever could. The first victim to Thomas' lies: a brainless reality television star. Thomas creates an elaborate story about a yacht he just purchased, and the more extravagant the story, the more believable it is to them.

Thomas babbles on. The nonsense all means nothing, yet the brainless celebrity eats it up like chocolate cake. Is this the life that everyone covets? A meaningless circle of pointless conversations?

The man leaves as Thomas swings his attention back to me. "These bastards believe everything they hear."

I almost laugh at the remark as he sums up my thoughts.

Thomas bumps into another guest, sparking small talk with them as well. Meanwhile, I take in my surroundings. Each face replicated the next with glitter, feathers, and face paint. Maybe I should've let Larona put more powder and gloss on me. It would've made me less recognizable to those who know me.

My eyes lock on a pair of forest green eyes across the space.

Cato strides through the courtyard with undeniable confidence, shaking hands with the patrons and giving them a dash of his swoon-worthy smile. He wears a dark grey tuxedo with a navy blue tie, and his chestnut hair waves across his scalp with that one curl managing to fall out of place on his forehead. Even from such a distance, I see the small flecks of golden stars trapped in those green irises illuminate as he charms each guest.

It's like he has the world under his spell, and they keep falling for him.

Trailing behind him is Gemma in a matching navy gown decorated with diamond beads. I watch as she distracts Cato for a moment, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing a kiss on his lips. The kiss breaks with a sheepish smirk from Cato.

A pang of jealousy arises within me, but with one look over at Thomas, those feelings vaporize.

"Champagne?"

This time, I take a skinny glass from the waiter. If I have to stare at Gemma all evening, I'll need this. I lift it to my lips, when Thomas snatches it and downs the whole thing in one gulp.

He wags his finger, making a soft 'tsk' sound. "No drinking for you."

"I just saw Cato and...Gemma." I force myself to say her name.

He chuckles. "I damn hope you see them. I'm paying you to do a job, you know."

Right now, I'd rather my target be Thomas standing there in that delicious suit.

Thomas lifts his blue eyes and scans the room until they lock onto the man of the evening: Cato Leveque. Cato's distracted by preparing for the evening's events. In only a few minutes, he'll be delivering a speech to the crowds about his discoveries from his space expedition.

Thomas tugs on my arm. "Let's take a seat."

Rows of chairs have been set up in the courtyard, as well as a stage. Bright illuminating spotlights focus in on the podium in the middle, bringing attention to the speaker for the evening. Audwin and Evelyn already sit in the front row, along with Gemma and her father Frank. Other associates sit up there as well, including the President of the Beaulieu Space Academy himself, Georgio Beaulieu.

We find ourselves taking a seat near the back. Thomas drapes his arm around the back of my chair, then takes my hand in his own, his rough fingers tugging at the white silk gloves that hide my hideous knuckles.

His lips touch my ear. "You're easily the most beautiful one here tonight, daffodil."

My cheeks heat up at the compliment. Thomas' lips dip down from my ear to my throat, trailing slow kisses against my skin. His mouth parts against my skin, an almost inaudible growl breaking through the seams of his voice as desire lurks at the edges. To the crowd, we appear to be madly in love, and I know my satisfied smile feeds in to our rouse.

Thomas kisses my ear again as he finishes, his voice suddenly hoarse. "You don't have to do this, daffodil. I can call the whole thing off."

I frown. "What do you mean? This is my job. You're paying me to do this."

"I just don't like the idea of you and Cato."

The sudden switch of his priorities takes me off guard. I turn my head and set my hand on his chest, fixing up his crooked crimson red tie. "Are you jealous?" I tease.

"Cato doesn't have your panties in his pocket, does he, daffodil?"

The smug look on his face causes me to swoon towards him.

"And when will I get those back?"

"Tonight," he whispers tenderly as he cranes his lips back into my neck, dousing me again with delicate kisses. "When we're alone."

I clench my thighs at the thought of being alone with Thomas once more, and he seems to be equally as infatuated with the idea. He catches the small action and smirks against my skin. He desires to see me twist in need, even in such a public place.

Someone taps the mic on the stage, breaking the tension between us. The seated crowd settles down, and I pull myself away from Thomas' kisses. For a girl who's supposed to be seducing Cato, I seem to be having greater luck at seducing my own boss. Or, as he prefers to view it as, my partner.

Georgio Beaulieu steps onto the stage—a tall, yet ancient man with a slicked white combover. His erratic breath echoes through the courtyard as he tilts the mic up to his mouth. His age certainly shows as he uses a cane to support himself, and I'm afraid that he might croak right there on the stage.

"Greetings all," he begins. "It is my honour to formally welcome you to this year's Beaulieu Space Academy gala."

I squeeze Thomas' hand. Not because of my own personal nerves, but because this man sounds like he's about to take his last breath with every word he speaks.

After his winded ramble, Georgio finally ends his introduction, although I can't say I paid attention to any of it. Thomas distracts me with his restless need to remove the gloves covering my scarred chapped hands.

"It is my pleasure to welcome one of the most elite astronauts within the academy, Cato Leveque!"

Cato steps up onto the stage, owning it with every step he takes. He waves at the cheering crowd, his forest green eyes twinkling in the spotlights. Behind him, a projector unveils a slideshow of images of uncharted territory, all of them taken by himself, according to the credit in the corner. Each nebula that fades in explodes with a saturation of exotic hues, and it's beautiful.

My jaw drops a little.

He belongs up on that stage, a member of the world he's created for himself. Ever since he was young, he's always adored the heavens. He achieved his dream at such a young age.

And I? I fell behind.

Cato adjusts the mic, then lifts his head to the crowd, flashing yet another charming smile. He lures everyone under his spell, and with just that one smile, he owns the attention of everyone in the courtyard. Everyone who came here tonight is the first to hear about his research and discoveries, including myself.

At once, Cato's eyes stop moving through the crowd.

Our gazes lock.

A warm shiver snakes up my spine.

I look away, then look back up, but his stare never waivers.

Oh bloody hell.

Maybe he doesn't recognize me. Maybe I should've taken Thomas' offer to just go home for the night and end the mission, but Cato's eyes refuse to waiver. Why am I so afraid?

Right. It's because I'm not supposed to be here.

Confusion laces Cato's face for only a second before he snaps himself out of it.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Cato begins, although polite, obviously scripted. "In the next hour, I hope to present to you some of the discoveries my team and I have come across during these last two years of our expedition."

He flips the screen over to a map of the galaxy, pinpointing the location of Earth. He casually sets his hands in his pants pockets, not giving a damn about professionalism in front of his colleagues.

"This is where we are currently in the galaxy, just for those who don't know much about the skies," Cato said, his eyes on the screen. "Our planet is hardly noticeable from such a distance. Years ago, traveling such big of an area would be impossible. But with today's technology, this kind of exploration is possible. As you may know, distance in space is calculated in light years. The astronomers of the past believed that traveling to places like Saturn's moons could take up to six years to travel too." Cato releases a handsome smile to the crowd. "We have proved them wrong, haven't we?"

Cato continues his speech, showing pictures of new planets, and cracking jokes about the names they came up with for these places. What really pulled at the crowds' heartstrings was when Cato revealed his favourite discovery: a planet with the same habitat potential as Earth, and dubbed it Evelyna—a nod of acknowledgement to his mother.

Even I know Evelyn's thrilled at Cato's gift for her.

Thomas whispers in my ear as Cato wraps up the final details of his speech. "Stand up and go inside Cato's manor."

"But Cato's not done—"

"Head inside," Thomas continues. "Don't rush out of here. You want Cato to notice."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Then come back out and find me. If anyone asks, say you're finding the bathroom."

I nod my head, but just as I'm about to stand up, Thomas' fingertips brush against my chin and coaxes me towards his lips. I melt as our mouths touch, and part my lips slightly as he suddenly ends it moments later.

"That oughta get his attention, daffodil," Thomas smirks.

I stand up from my seat. With my back turned to the stage, I take my time strolling across the courtyard towards Cato's manor, just as Thomas instructed me. Yet, I don't have to look at Cato to feel the heat of his eyes trailing the length of my body.

I stop as I reach the doors that lead into his manor and turn myself to face Cato, who still stands on that stage. He's gazing right at me, speaking as if I wasn't the one occupying his mind. Yet, it's clear that the charms he placed over the crowd are no match for the beauty of his childhood best friend, his little seductress. He nervously fiddles with his tie, and his shoulders tense up.

Until he falters on his words, and just stares.

He captures my world in that small moment, and the childish memories flood back into my mind. First, it's all innocent, until those memories lace themselves with desire: the memories of him and I kissing behind the shield of bedsheets, him pinning me against the tree, him vowing to meet me at my bedroom.

Then, I feel dozens of harsh stares digging into me like daggers. No, hundreds. Everyone looks at me, the girl who holds Cato's attention.

The servant. The seductress. The whore's daughter.

He'll certainly want what he can't have, Thomas' words echo through my mind. You will be irresistible.

I disappear into his manor. Through the windows, I catch Cato running a hand through his hair, suddenly so out of that suave charismatic character he usually possesses.

"Thank you everyone," the rush of his voice and slight quiver heats up my blood. "Questions will be answered at a later time."

Then, he's off the stage.

In only a matter of time, Cato will catch up to me as I wander down the corridors, and that's when all the training and preparations that Thomas gives me will finally be put to the test.

You can do this, Maureen.

I am a seductress.

I stop at the footsteps behind me. Those sound like... heels? Are Cato's shoes that loud?

When I spin around, I come face to face with the one woman who I loathe more than Madame Newmister.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Gemma.

━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━

Don't we all want to capture Cato and Thomas' attention at some point?

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Updated September 11, 2022.