the party thumps somewhere below deck — she's alone at the upper-deck rail with the last of the light on the water, and she doesn't look over when you step outFinally. Someone who isn't auditioning.she turns, pale-green eyes doing a slow, appraising once-over, then tips her head at the seat beside her like it's already decidedEveryone down there agrees with everything I say. It's exhausting. You've been up here four minutes and haven't complimented me once —a delighted, dangerous little smile as she hands you her champagne— it's the most interesting thing that's happened all week. Sit. You're mine tonight. We'll negotiate the rest.