“Because going to a romantic restaurant with my girlfriend is going to be seriously awkward if her dad is here.”
“First, my father isn’t here—he’s in Bulgaria. I think.” Kat furrowed her brow and pondered for a moment before her mind returned to more pressing matters. “Secondly…” she started, then seemed to think better of it.
In the past six weeks, she had spent a lot of time editing her thoughts, carefully choosing her words. Laser grids, Kat could handle. But there was a special sort of danger that could lie inside a word like girlfriend, so Kat looked at their reflection on the wall of the glossy elevator compartment and tried to steady her voice.
“Secondly, I’m hungry.”
Kat hadn’t been nervous at all during the planning stages of that particular evening—not when they’d chosen the restaurant or even when her cousin, Gabrielle, had carefully selected Kat’s dress and shoes. But as soon as the elevator doors slid open, she heard the music—sultry and low, accordions and violins—and suddenly, Kat was terrified.
In the restaurant, tangoing couples circled past, and the look in Hale’s eyes was especially mischievous when he told her, “Oh, I see. You brought me here so you can have your way with me on the dance floor.”
“No.” Kat pointed past the dancing couples to the solid wall of windows that wrapped around the room. “I brought you here for the view.”
Over fifteen million people live in Buenos Aires, and there, on the top floor of the city’s tallest building, Kat felt like she could see them all. The restaurant sat on a platform that was built to revolve, slowly moving clockwise past lights and skyscrapers, old historic buildings and illuminated squares. Kat knew it would take exactly one hour for the restaurant to make a full revolution. An hour to talk. An hour to eat. An hour (much to Kat’s chagrin) to dance.
“Come on,” Hale said, pulling her close. “Humor me.”
All around them, couples danced so closely it was as if they were stuck together with Velcro, each absorbed in their own little world, moving like they didn’t share the dance floor with a dozen other people.
They were beautiful, and when Kat and Hale joined them, she too forgot that the other dancers existed. Hale was with her. Just the two of them. And Kat actually stopped thinking. She forgot about the jobs they had to do, the things she had to steal. When Hale pulled to a sudden stop, Kat thought he might kiss her. Dip her. Spin her. She was bracing herself, mentally preparing for it all, and she was ready—she really was—for anything but his pulling her close and whispering, “Kat, it’s time.”
“Right. I…” Kat jerked upright and stumbled over the words. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
And then she was gone, pushing past waiters carrying trays and women slipping lipsticks into handbags as they returned to their partners. Kat rushed into the ladies’ room and stood there gripping the sink and staring into the mirror, trying to catch her breath.
“Kat?” Hale yelled through the door. “Kat! I’m coming in.” But he didn’t wait for her to answer.
A woman came out of one of the stalls just as Hale burst through the door. She gasped but didn’t scream, and Hale gave her a very Hale-ish grin, so the woman hurriedly rinsed her hands and left without a word.
“Are you okay?” he asked as soon as they were alone. Kat felt her breathing start to rev again. She heard a sound—a bang, bang, bang—beating like the telltale heart.
“Kat?” Hale asked.
Slowly, he brought a hand to her face and pushed a stray hair away from her eyes. “Thanks for the dance,” he said just as—bang—the noise came again.
Kat shuddered and looked out the window. The apartment building she had seen when they’d first arrived was coming into view as the restaurant continued its rotation, so Kat took a deep breath and reached for the glass.
“Are we ready?” Gabrielle asked, sliding into the room, a crossbow, black backpack, and fifty feet of military-grade cable in tow.
Kat nodded. “Let’s go.”
“You look freaked,” Gabrielle whispered while she unpacked their gear and Kat stripped off her dress to reveal the black catsuit she wore beneath it.
Hale was busy at the window, so Kat whispered back, “There was tango,” which was answer enough for Gabrielle.
“We’re coming into position,” Hale said, then handed the crossbow to Gabrielle, who took aim at the building that was slowly moving into direct line with the bathroom window.
“We only have fifteen minutes,” he reminded them.
“I know,” Kat said.
A knock came on the door just as Gabrielle shot an arrow, sending the cable spiraling across the street to lodge in the mortar above the apartment’s window. She clipped a strap from the belt around her waist onto the outstretched line.
“See you on the other side, Kitty Kat,” Gabrielle said with a smile, and a moment later she was zooming into the black.
Kat climbed onto the ledge as soon as Gabrielle was clear, but Hale had to help her reach up to grab the cable and attach it to the belt at her waist. She was still dangling there when the knock came again.
“Sir,” a familiar voice said from the other side of the door. “Sir, are you in there?”