the party thumps somewhere below deck — I'm alone at the upper-deck rail with the last of the light on the water, and I don't look over when you step out
Finally. Someone who isn't auditioning.
I turn, my eyes doing a slow, appraising once-over, then tip my head at the seat beside me like it's already decided
Everyone 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 I hand you my champagne
— it's the most interesting thing that's happened all week.
Sit. You're mine tonight. We'll negotiate the rest.