“There’s something I don’t love about Mitch,” Piper complained to Molly as they stepped toward the bar to get some water. “He's a nice enough guy, but he seems – I don’t know, entitled? Not like, spoiled and tantrum-throwing; more like “if you don’t give me what I want, I’m going to take it” entitled. It kind of makes me nervous.”

“You got all of that from your two-minute conversation and writhing around on the dance floor with him for thirty minutes.”

Piper gasped, incensed. “I was absolutely not writhing! And, yes, I got all that. I don’t know; I have a sense about those things. Besides, I don’t really find him very attractive. It’s not like I need him to have a six pack or a model chin, but there has to be at least a little spark.”

“But if you don't go along with us, Declan will change his mind.”

“Well, Declan's an ass, and you know it.”

Molly pouted at her friend. “Maybe, but I want to go.” She flashed a drunken smile. “And Declan does have six-pack abs.”

“So, you want me to leave a fun party and go out with a guy I have no desire to know, so that you can have a date with a guy who is an ass just because he has a six pack?”

Instead of answering, Molly just laughed hysterically. “That's so awesome when you say it that way. What stupid person would do that?”

“Exactly. So, I'm going to save you from your drunken self and say that, no, I won't go.”

The teasing pout turned into full-on sullenness as Piper's words trudged through Molly's tequila-soaked brain.

“Instead,” Piper continued, though she wanted to reach out and comfort her miserable friend, “you and I will go find some food and help you get back some sense before we head home. I'm going to go make my apologies to the guys.” When Molly reached out to grab Piper's arm, Piper twisted to avoid her friend. “Love you, Molly. I'll be right back.”

Piper headed back to the bar, certain that the two men would have settled in as close to their favorite activity as possible. Sure enough, she saw Mitch's square face aimed in her direction as soon as she approached. Apparently, he had been waiting for her.

“Piper!” he stood up a little too enthusiastically, spilling his drink across the table. Despite her lack of interest, she had to feel compassion for him. She spun to the table behind her and grabbed some napkins, quickly placing them on the soggy mess and soaking her sleeve in strong-smelling alcohol. Instead of helping, Declan cursed and complained at his friend's clumsiness.

“I'm so sorry,” Mitch sputtered to his friend, then to Piper. Piper, of course, couldn't chastise him.

“It could happen to anyone,” she insisted. “Let me just go get a towel from the bartender.” Piper halted halfway across the distance. “Oh, no. I promised Molly I'd bring her some food. Can you just-”

“I'll take it to her,” Declan piped up, and when Piper protested, he shook his head. “Please. It has to be better than standing here watching Mitch be awkward.”

Before she could answer, he had grabbed a couple of tapas off a nearby table and headed toward Molly. Piper wanted to follow, feeling distinctly that she was letting the viper loose in the mouse cage, but then she looked back at Mitch. From what Piper had seen, Molly could handle herself perfectly well, even while hampered by the effects of tequila. Mitch, though; Mitch looked as if he had lost his best friend, which, maybe he had. Piper grabbed the towel that the bartender handed her and hurried back to the table.

“It's no big deal,” she insisted. “You wanna grab me bite? I'm famished.” Piper hoped that she could alleviate some of his distress by distraction, and when he returned with a couple of plates, her hopes seemed answered.

“So, you go to Brown?” he queried as he and Piper stepped away from the offending table. “Do you like it there?”

“Actually,” Piper corrected, “I go to U.R.I. I didn't expect to spend too long here, so I didn't want to be rude and correct your friend when he made the introductions - since I didn't figure it would matter after tonight.”

“U.R.I.? But you have a southern accent. Did your family move here? I mean, lots of people change regions to go to Brown, but I've never met anyone who came north for U.R.I.”

Piper had to laugh. “Well, it's complicated,” she shrugged as she walked with him past the crowd toward the balcony. “I loved New England – I had traveled here with my dad as a kid – so I always said I wanted to move here for college. My mom did some research, and it turned out that U.R.I. is the least expensive school in the safest neighborhood of any decent school in New England. At least, the ones she could find on the internet. I figured that it would do well enough. My parents agreed to pay for room and board, so I have a nice little apartment in South Kingstown, and I met Molly at a party in my freshman year. She's so funny. She has offered to pay for Brown if I will change schools, but honestly, I'm three quarters of the way through my senior year. Maybe for grad school, if I don't move back home. My grades at U.R.I. are excellent, so I'm not worried about admission. I mean, my SATs were probably high enough in high school, but I couldn't make myself care too much about my grades.”

When Piper felt the blast of cold wind, she glanced up and realized that she and Mitch had walked outside. She had not intended to stay with Mitch for so long, and she certainly hadn't intended to talk about her lack of money, but she tended to babble, and she had lost track not only of Molly, but of her own surroundings. “I have to go find Molly!” she insisted.

“Didn't you see them on the way out?” Mitch insisted. “Molly is sitting with Declan and a group of guys who are all listening to her tell some story.”

“Ha. That's Molly. But,” she glanced around her for an excuse to head back inside, “I left my wrap inside. It's cold out here.”

As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. Mitch looked as if he could think of several ways to warm her up, and Piper didn't trust herself to stand up to him without letting out her more violent tendencies. If she did that, she would embarrass herself in front of a crowd of people. She had never held the gift of finesse, trusting on her intensity to get her point across. Of course, looking around her, Piper realized that very few if any of the balcony's occupants would notice an outburst. They either sat staring vapidly into some drug-induced vision, or they semi-reclined in some form of entwine with a partner of their choosing. A panicked cough escaped Piper's lips.

“Take my jacket,” Mitch insisted, wrapping the wool coat around her shoulders.

“Oh, I couldn't,” she tried to shrug out of it. “I want my wrap.” His gesture seemed much more intimate than Piper would ever allow.

“Really,” he secured the jacket by laying his arm around her back, “I'm fine.”

Piper found herself propelled forward by the firmly-placed arm, and she renewed her efforts to pull away. “Mitch, I want to go back inside,” she pressed.

Instead of complying, Mitch swung her around into a corner, hemmed in by two rails of banisters and a boxed shrub. “Nobody out here is paying any attention,” Mitch insisted. “You don't have to be embarrassed.” He turned her around to face him, pressing her into the darkened corner. Though she did not suspect him of any nefarious intent, he seemed completely oblivious to all of her signals.

“I'm not embarrassed,” she hissed. “I want to go inside.”

Mitch seemed so intent on getting his hands on her that he did not hear her. First, he pulled her in against his body, then he leaned in with his lips, aiming squarely for the nape of her neck. Whatever she intended, she would have to communicate as clearly as possible.

“Mitch,” she leveled loudly, grabbing the hair on either side of his head, “you're a nice enough guy, but I think you've had a little bit too much to drink, and you're not understanding my message. I want to go back inside.”

With utter shock, Mitch stared into her face. Confusion and embarrassment mingled on his features, and Piper felt like the most horrible person on the planet. Still, she did not regret her directness - he needed to understand her.

“You're saying no?” he mumbled, then repeated the words in an unexpected shout. “You're saying no?” Piper stared, stunned, into the growing face of his anger. “What are you, a tease?” he accused.

“Please,” she whispered, noticing the sudden swing of heads in their direction. “I really am sorry. I tried to tell you earlier, but you didn't seem to hear me.”

“You're lucky I paid any attention to you, Miss U.R.I. from the south of nowhere,” he slurred contemptuously. “If your friend hadn't been hot, no one would have even seen you.”

Though Piper knew that the alcohol had spoken the words, the fact did not minimize her embarrassment. Before she knew what had happened, tears began to descend down her cheeks, and as she wiped them away, she sought escape from all of the curious eyes. A set of steps to her left seemed to lead to a lower level, so she shrugged out of his jacket as she rushed down them, finally stopping to breathe once she reached a deep evening shadow underneath the upper balcony.

After a few moments, she regained control of herself. Once she had escaped the imminent eyes of all the upstairs witnesses, her embarrassment had waned. Tomorrow, no one would likely remember the humiliation of the unknown girl from who knew where. Though she couldn't escape the pang that wrenched her gut when she remembered the staring faces, she could consider her current surroundings with basic equanimity. She would not return upstairs under any circumstances.

Perhaps she could find her way back to her car. Another set of stairs led downward from the lower balcony, a path that ended with the sandy beach along the west side of the house. Somewhere behind her, she would find a path around the house and then Beavertail Rd. In between, she could sit in her car and wait out the end of the party.

As soon as her feet hit the sand, she slipped her shoes off and sat down for a moment, letting the breeze blow away the emotions that had gripped her for the past few minutes. She understood why the wealthy bought property on Jamestown. Unlike Wickford Harbor, the breeze off of Narragansett Bay around Jamestown blew clean and fresh, and soon, Piper could stand up and stroll toward the water with complacency. She figured that no one above would see her, either because they had dulled their eyes with drink or because the sun had finished setting and blanketed the area in darkness. When she had moved to Rhode Island, she had craved the water, and in her current situation, she remembered why. Now she would let the wind and the water strip away the frustration of the party's failure before she turned to begin her long trek back to reality.

+++++++++++

“I understand why you’re interested in him” Luke pressed, “but I just don’t think you’ll find him willing to join.” As soon as he had spoken with his cousin, Luke’s conscience had upbraided him, and he had sought out his supervisor, cornering him in an unoccupied, book-lined study in the northern wing of the home. “He is not cut out for this.”

Isaac shrugged dismissively. “You still think of him as your little cousin who you have to protect. There was value in what you did, distracting criminals from the more vulnerable people around you, but there was value in his learning to hide, as well. It took an aptitude that is useful. He has honed that here at Brown, and to a degree that is beyond typical. To step in among some of the most elite minds in the world, and to blend in flawlessly? You can see why that would be a valuable skill set in my world.”

“So, send in a recruiter. Don’t make me do this.”

With a leveled look, Isaac subdued Luciano. “This is good training for you, Luke. You cannot hold on to these sentimental attachments. Also, though, you make him a soft contact if you do this. Sometimes we have to spend months reaching this level of inroad.”

“But he’s not interested!”

“You just haven’t persuaded him hard enough. What does he like? What lure can you offer?”

“Nothing. He’s in economics. Not even something practical that you could use as an analyst, like finance or accounting. He’s all theories and philosophies.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

Luke huffed a laugh. “Not likely. Women love Sebastian, but he’s been pretty heartbroken over losing Mariana, to the point where getting close to a woman scares him. When we would sit around our house at night, he would talk about how much worse it is for women – his mom spent her life latching on to men to gain enough power to take care of him and my mom, her little sister. Even in high school, he was afraid to connect with a woman because she might fall victim to a messed-up man. He dabbles, but not enough to have a girlfriend.”

“His cousin?”

“Not like that. Bash was like our brother. He lost a little sister when I did, and it just damaged him for women.”

“So he’s got the perfect level of disconnect to fit in great here. A man who works as hard as he has to get out of the pit? He’s either an avaricious bastard or a disillusioned idealist. We can work really well with either one.”

“If that’s the case, how would his having a girlfriend help us?”

“Well, for one, if you could make a girlfriend like you, she could soften him toward you. If you could go out with them both socially, Sebastian would stop seeing you as a potential threat.”

“And for another?” Luke prompted.

“It’s just an in. Every aspect of his life we can infiltrate will give us another opportunity. I don’t usually invest this much energy into one recruit, but I’m really investing this energy in you. You’ve been in training, in college. Now you’re out, and I’m your handler until you go on mission. We’ll call this “training light” – your cousin is a soft target. There are a lot of skills I’m asking you to use now that will serve you later once you get in the field. Just follow my instructions. I promise I know what I’m doing.”

Luciano shook his head. Fortunately both for him and for Sebastian, Luciano was all too familiar with the manipulation tactics used to rope someone into an organization. He didn’t know why this guy wanted Sebastian, Luciano would monitor the process closely, controlling what he could. Peering out over the throng of glammed up socialites, Luciano thought he could understand wanting an in with the crowd. Maybe the lure for Isaac really was just Luciano’s conversation, the Ivy league connection, a potential for gaining a valuable asset. It seemed more than that, though. Well, Luke had signed up for the job, and he would take his punches, but he would also continue to do what he had always done – run interference for Sebastian.