On the morning of the sailing race, I’m standing in my walk-in closet, trying to decide what to wear to the marina. The spacious room is lined with clothes in my exact measurements, including everything from blouses to miniskirts to skimpy costumes. Lighted shelves display my shoes and other accessories, as well as a variety of weapons, tools, and communication devices disguised as ordinary items.

I rifle through a section of dresses and spot the perfect one: a white strapless dress with an embroidered hemline, hitting just at the knee. Combined with some expensive jewelry, a pair of white fashion sneakers, and the pink streaks still in my hair, I’ll look like the daughter of a wealthy businessman who just wants to rebel a bit and have some fun.

Jamison Hart will freaking love it.

Everyone else has been busy this past week. Romeo has been appearing in public and attending business meetings to keep up his cover. He’s already secured an invite to the sailing race, complete with a plus-one, though I had to hear about it from Agent Novenine. Even Alpha has barely spoken to me since the Woodland Castle. He’s mostly been working with Uncle, so I’ve just had to accept that we aren’t going to be interacting much until the mission is over. Whatever unspoken barrier lies between us has to remain there temporarily, without either one of us addressing it.

But I’m starting to worry that it might become more permanent than that.

I’ve also been doubting whether I imagined the chemistry I had with Jamison Hart during the game of Sardines, the attraction that seemed so obvious to me at the time. I’d thought he might have at least texted Lily Bass’s cell phone, but instead it’s just been sitting on my nightstand, deathly silent. Even though I never gave Jamie my phone number, I was on his guest list and received a personalized invitation to his birthday party. There’s no way he couldn’t have called or texted if he wanted to, especially after Zoe Evano died right in front of us. Even the police called to speak to me about what happened.

But maybe everything Jamie said was a line after all. Maybe he never actually intended to take me sailing on the ocean. Some people polish their memories, making them seem better than they really are, but I’m the complete opposite. All I can do is tarnish what I remember, making everything seem worse than it really was.

I couldn’t have imagined it all. Could I?

There’s a knock on the door and I answer, expecting to see Alpha in his chauffeur’s uniform. But instead it’s Romeo, wearing light blue shorts and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks every inch like a dashing gentleman with undeniable charm, and he’s nailed his look perfectly. I’d give anything not to feel this attracted to him. My body is practically screaming at me to throw myself at him this instant.

The fact that he’s been entirely professional over the past week doesn’t help.

“Oh, good,” Reese says, giving me a slight smirk, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “You’re ready.”

“Why are you here?” I ask, ignoring his tone. “We’re supposed to meet at the sailing race.”

“Change of plans,” he says. “It’ll look better if we arrive together, and it won’t be necessary for Alpha to drive. Uncle will take the helm instead.”

What? No. I refuse to go on a mission without my partner. August has to watch my back like he always does, and I don’t care if this leads to solitary confinement. I can’t go out there without him. I won’t.

Even if I try, I’ll fail anyway.

“It is necessary,” I say, my expression more than a little mutinous. “Alpha is my partner. Either we both go, or neither of us does. Why doesn’t Uncle stay behind instead?”

Reese sighs loudly. “I didn’t say Alpha was staying behind. I just said he wouldn’t have to drive. There’s an old lighthouse nearby where he’ll be covering us. We didn’t realize it was there until he was scouting the area last night.”

It isn’t unusual for Alpha to check out an area before a mission. If anyone notices, he just says he’s an ex-cop hired to be my bodyguard, which includes making sure the location is secure beforehand. But what is unusual is the fact that he didn’t let me know about it at all. He didn’t ask if there was anything I needed him to do while he was out there, or if there was anything I needed to know about the location, and he didn’t tell me about the change in plans.

Why?

Misreading my expression, Reese says, “This won’t affect the mission at all.”

He thinks I’m worried about the sailing race. He’s wrong, of course. But I can’t waste time worrying about what’s happening to the partnership between me and Alpha. I’ll just have to trust that August will still be there after Jamie and Mellie Hart die, that after everything is said and done, he’ll still be my partner. We are still partners, aren’t we?

But for whatever reason, lately it’s only been in the most technical sense of the term.

In the back of the limousine, Romeo sits next to me with his arm around my shoulders. This is what we agreed upon beforehand. To make Jamison Hart jealous, he needs to be egotistical and confident, like a smug jerk who thinks women should be falling all over themselves to be with him. It’s like the role practically wrote itself.

But because his sleeves are rolled up, his forearm is grazing my bare shoulder.

It feels like I’ve been struck by lightning.

His leg shifts against mine, bumping against my knee a little too purposefully. I don’t dare turn to look at him. Reese is toying with me again, only in a different, more flirtatious kind of way. Now that the mission has started, he’s really leaning into the role, taking advantage of every moment of it. I should pull away. I should tell him to stop. But the feeling of his skin on mine is too electric, the very touch of him sinking into my flesh, and if I didn’t know any better I’d swear the temperature inside the limousine has risen by like ten degrees.

It’s ridiculous how good this is starting to feel.

“Please stop,” I say finally.

“Why?” he says, the tone of his voice entirely too smug. “Is it working too well?”

“It’s not working at all,” I snap. “But I think you’re straying beyond first date territory.”

“Fine, fine.” Reese removes his arm from around my shoulders and scoots away from me. “I’ll save it for the grand finale.”

He means the part in the script where he tries to kiss me and I pull back and slap him, hard, before storming off. Jamison Hart will see it, or at least hear about it, and hopefully offer me a ride home. It’ll give me the perfect opportunity to get closer to my target.

And as much as I hate to admit it, part of me just really, really wants to see Jamie again.

The limousine turns onto a gravel road leading toward the ocean shoreline, where dozens of white sails are lined up along the marina like massive swans. The wooden planks of the boardwalk are crowded with people wearing sundresses and shorts, and Romeo and I will fit right in. The plan is for Uncle to wait until the climax of the sailing race, when the crowd isn’t paying attention to anything else, and plant a remote-controlled explosive device on Mellie Hart’s jeep. He’ll detonate it later, while she’s on her way home. No innocent lives will be harmed in the explosion.

Reese gets out first, then turns and gallantly holds his hand out to me. “Mademoiselle.”

I reach up and accept his grip, trying to ignore the shock of contact between us. As he leads me out of the limousine, I smile at him, reminding myself to act like we’re on a first date. I have to be on my best behavior, mischievous and daring but still in potential-girlfriend mode, and this is where my training has to finally kick in. I can’t cling to any of the emotions I’d normally feel as Eliza. I can’t even cling to anything I’d want to feel as Echo.

I have to be Lily Bass, first and foremost, without space for anything else.

“Why, thank you, monsieur,” I say lightly, as if I can’t imagine a better way for him to help me out of the limousine.

Off the top of my head, I can think of at least five better ways.

“So what’s on your mind this fine afternoon?” he asks, as we stroll over to the dock.

“Nothing in particular,” I say. “It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? I expected more from Lily Bass.”

Okay, that’s a fair statement. If Reese was my target, I’d definitely be trying a lot harder to make it feel like a real date. I’d be engaging him in actual conversation about his interests, laughing, touching his arm whenever I could, flirting like it was my mission to do so. Which it usually would be.

But right now, I’m being boring and spouting small talk that could come from anyone. While it’s a believable date, it’s far from the type of interaction that’ll make Jamison Hart jealous. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, I do want to make him jealous. I want confirmation that he likes me, that he wants to be with me, that whatever happened between us during the game of Sardines wasn’t just the product of my own desperate imagination.

“Lawrence!”

An older woman steps off a yacht and onto the dock, her tanned figure glistening in the sunlight. I recognize Mellie Hart instantly. Her dark hair is in a side braid, and she’s wearing a bikini top with a long, flowing maxi skirt. She’s clearly put a lot of effort into maintaining her appearance. If I hadn’t memorized her file, I’d think she was about ten years younger than she actually is.

The name on the side of the yacht is Claire.

“My dear Mell,” says Reese smoothly. His attention has latched onto his target, and he’s giving her a charming smirk, on the verge of tipping a nonexistent hat. “How are you this fine afternoon?”

“I’m as well as can be,” she says. “Gallagher is off talking to some colleagues, and Jamison seems to have disappeared. Zoe’s funeral was extremely difficult for all of us, but I have to believe she’s in a better place now.”

“Of course.” His tone is sympathetic, as if he wasn’t the one who poisoned Zoe Evano at all. “I was quite sorry to hear about her passing. This is Lily Bass, by the way.”

Mellie smiles at me, brushing a tear from her eye. “I’ve heard so much about you, Lily. You’re a very lovely girl. It’s nice to meet you.”

I’m thrown off by the fact that she’s heard anything about me at all. I was preparing myself to meet a complete stranger, one who seemed like an enemy of the nation, but Mellie Hart appears to be a genuinely friendly person.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hart,” I say, extending a hand. “It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Call me Mellie,” she says, shaking my hand amicably. “It’s so wonderful to see young love.”

“Oh, no,” I say, glancing at Reese. “This is just a date, actually. We’re not—”

“Not going to waste another second with small talk,” he cuts in. “I heard we could get a wicked Bloody Mary at the bar. Why don’t we head over there, Lily? After all, it is a nice day, isn’t it?”

I smile, trying not to shoot him an annoyed look. “Sure. Would you like to join us, Mellie?”

“I’d be delighted,” she says, grabbing a floppy straw hat and plopping it onto her head. “The sun out here isn’t doing any favors for my skin.”

On the stroll down the boardwalk to the bar, Romeo and Mellie discuss whether her husband or her stepson should take over Ophidian, as well as how she’s going to adjust to life as a single woman in London after her divorce. Neither of them pays much attention to me, but I don’t particularly care. All I’m able to focus on is when I’ll see Jamison Hart again.

Romeo casually turns to me when we reach the bar, as if he’s been talking to me all along instead of some other woman. This is all in the script, but it’s hard not to feel slightly irritated, especially when I’m supposed to act the part anyway. He laces his fingers with mine, squeezing a little too tightly.

“Fancy a drink, love?”

What a freaking British thing to say.

“Yes, please,” I say, my lips curving into a flirtatious smile. But his eyes have left mine to look at someone over my shoulder. What is it now?

And then I hear a familiar voice, the one I’ve been yearning to encounter again, before I can even turn around. Jamie, I think, my heart thudding inside my chest, far too eagerly for how often I’ve thought about poisoning him since we first met.

“Well, if isn’t Lily Bass.”