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You’re an American and the embassy is hosting a party at their place. I can try to get you an invitation if you’d like.”
    Mallory pouted. “Don’t worry about it. I see those stuffed shirts all the time. I’ll just send a message to Liam and see him tomorrow. Thank you.”
    Mallory took her key and headed to her suite. Her luggage was already on its way and some unseen person would be quickly unpacking it for her. By the time she arrived in her suite, her clothes would be in the closet and a bottle of wine would be open and waiting for her.
    Ambrose and her father would be at the embassy tonight. She wouldn’t have to worry about seeing them there. She needed to get a feel for the party scene if she was to prepare for tomorrow night. Mallory knew just the person to call to find out. As she rode up the elevator, she called Tilley Vanderfield. The young party girl was in every tabloid imaginable for her wild ways.
    “Tilley, darling, it’s Mallory Westin.”
    “Oh my! Mallory. It’s been forever.”
    Mallory almost laughed. Yes, a couple of months would seem like forever to her. It had to Mallory when she was twenty-one. “St. Barts did seem like forever ago. I’m in Stromia. Are you here, darling?”
    “That’s totes fab! I’m here. I’m going out with the girls to Montlark. Meet us there at midnight. We should be done with dinner by then. Hey, come to the embassy with us. Lots of hotties there.”
    “Oh, I’m so sorry. But I have plans for dinner. I’d love to see you at Montlark, though. Save a spot for me and we’ll split a bottle of champagne while you fill me in on what I’ve missed since St. Barts. You have to give me all the deats on the men. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve decided it’s time to marry.”
    “ O-M-G ! Are you for real?”
    “Totes.” Mallory rolled her eyes as the elevator door opened. She was too old for this. “I get my trust fund this year, and I just simply have too much money to spend on my own. A husband would be amusing.”
    “Oh! Can I tell the girls? We can all give you the inside scoop on everyone in town.”
    “Sure, but pinkie promise not to tell anyone else, okay?” Mallory tried not to gag as she opened the door to the suite. Was she really this vapid when she was young? She probably was until Ahmed started training her. Seeing and doing the things she did quickly erased any innocence she had left.
    “Of course. See you tonight. We’re going to have so much fun!”
    “Toodles, Tilley.” Mallory hung up the phone and tossed back the glass of wine waiting for her on the mahogany table. She walked through the living area, past a sleek couch and two chairs, to a desk next to the wall of windows. Picking up the phone, she ordered room service before kicking off her heels and standing at the bank of windows, overlooking the beautiful ancient downtown. For a split second she felt old. It had been a lifetime since she was last here. The memories of the cobblestone streets, the tiny shops, and sitting on the sidewalk sipping cappuccinos seemed just like yesterday.
    There was a knock on the door only a split second before it opened. Mallory didn’t bother turning around. She knew exactly who it was. She just wondered what took him so long. She’d already finished her first glass of wine.
    “Hello, Bowie.” Mallory watched in the reflection of the glass as her old handler walked over to the table and poured more wine. Old was just a term for how long they’d known each other. Bowie was anything but old. He hadn’t changed much in the years since she left the CIA. He was still drop-dead gorgeous and had a swagger that suggested he knew it.
    “Hey, babe. Long time.”
    “Dinner is on the way up, and I’m already a glass of wine ahead of you. What, are you slowing down in your old age?”
    “Ouch. I didn’t know thirty-eight was old. You certainly have only gotten better with age.”
    Mallory turned around and found him enjoying the view of her in the dress.