The night is lit up by the warm lights illuminating from the hotel in the approaching distance and also by the blaring red, brake lights from all the cars driving up front and dropping off the attendees. Of course, everyone is rich enough to afford someone to drive them so it's a slow, continuous line of cars.

"Are you nervous?" Brendon asks me. I've been asked this all day and yesterday. I've always just laughed it off and shook my head. The other agents and Macy have been asking me and I keep telling them no. But this is the first time Brendon asks me and he's probably one of the last ones to ask me this question before I go in. He glances to the side and faces me for a second. I see the genuine "you don't need to lie to me" look in his eyes.

"Are you kidding me?" I ask, cracking a grin. "I'm absolutely terrified."

Brendon flashes a similar smile. "Ah, you're going to do fine, man. You look sharp, kind of like James Bond."

"I kind of feel like James Bond." Black tux, indigo tie. My hair is parted differently. "It's one of those things where you tell yourself you're going to be fine the whole time beforehand until it's actually happening and you know you're in for it." I'm about to run my fingers through my hair but I refrain, knowing that'll mess it up. I have a habit of tousling my hair around, having it usually messy and concealing parts of my face since it's on the longer side for men. Makes it a natural way of always partially hiding my identity. But I can't have that messy hair right now. It's neat, clean, and sharp as a college professor would be.

"You'll be okay," Brendon says. "There will be plenty of other agents there."

"Yeah, outside the building. Inside, there's only one. Toro is there and me and Elsa and everyone else she's planning on meeting. I won't be armed but I think all the people I'll be mingling with will be."

"I'm sure there will be more civilians than...well, armed people," Brendon says. "It's not like it a Russian mob we're going into, it's an art gala, a private event, but it's only private because they exclusively want the rich public involved. It'll work out. You have to remember, when she's not working, she's still human."

"I know, but there's that voice in the back of my head narking on me and it keeps asking but what if something goes wrong."

"Well, as Akari said, run." We get up closer toward the building and Brendon pulls forward. I'm heading out soon. "Ready?"

"I don't really get a say in that," I sigh. Brendon puts a hand on my shoulder and gives a reassuring shake. I pat his arm and nod.

We pull up forward, the valet gestures for us to pull closer so I can get out. "Glove compartment," Brendon reminds me.

"I'm on it," I say, flipping it open and grabbing the small box. I quickly open it and insert the earpiece. "Alright, see you tonight. Maybe. I don't know which way this is playing out.

"If all goes well, I'll see you tonight. If all goes really well, I'll see you the morning after." He gives me a cheeky smirk and I just laugh at him before getting out of the car. It's slightly on the warmer side but the wind is a bit chilly. I have a long sleeve shirt on and a jacket. I'm fine.

"Good evening, sir," the valet says in German. I smile at him then start walking up to the hotel.

"Rather windy," I whisper under my breath.

"Coms are working," Akari says. "I would say hear you loud and clear but you are whispering.

"Yeah, well, talking to myself in public isn't viewed as a good thing," I mutter again.

"You know what to do, Way," Macy says.

"Yeah." I start walking up the stairs and I take out my invitation from my inside jacket. I bite my tongue as I approach one of the attendance people. "Good evening, may I see your invite?" the woman asks in German with a bright smile.

I hand her the paper. "I am Professor Gerard Warh," I say in German back.

She hands me back the invitation then check the tablet. "Welcome Mr. Warh, I hope you enjoy your evening." I nod with a slight smile before walking in following the general flow of people. The hotel is magnificent, marble tile floors, ebony wood doors with dual staircases. Crystal chandeliers and painted ceilings. I know it's an art gala but the building itself is impressive.

A small orchestra plays in the back and a banquet of hors-d'oeuvres lines the front wall and display panels are set up to lay out the artworks. Some of the works are rather pathetic, just single color splashed on the canvas but those seem to be clustered in the west wing. The east side is a better option. Elsa better have good taste so I can find her here.

"Anything yet?" Macy asks. I don't answer her. "Is she at least in sight?"

"Nothing," I whisper.

"You know what she looks like, right? You remember?"

"Have faith in him," Akari says. "He has seen dozens of photographs of her, he knows her profile, he's going to do just fine. Just give it time." I smile to myself hearing Akari.

I walk around the gala, looking at the art but focusing on the women, trying to sort out Elsa. If I do see a particularly good piece, I'll admire it. That way, if anyone notices me, it doesn't look like I'm seeking someone but actually here for the art.

Three hours pass and I still haven't run into her yet, let alone seen her. I keep running the pictures over in my head. She's a natural platinum blonde, baby blue eyes, 5'5. I know what she looks like. It's already 8 o'clock and I've been to every part of the gala that's not closed off. I'm starting to think maybe she's upstairs in other areas in meetings. The courier did say she would be on business for this event, which is probably the only reason he was so open in telling Brendon and I. Had she not been on business, he would have been reluctant on giving us that information, maybe even suspicious. He might not have even known about her coming here. But he treated it like it was just another day. Maybe she's just using the gala as cover.

"You think she's here?" Macy asks.

"She has got to be," Akari says. "The courier said she was here, she is here."

"It's been three hours, there's nothing," Macy says.

"Well, not from a lack of effort," I whisper.

"I beg your pardon?" a woman next to me asks. She heard me and she understood the English.

I turn around and see a beautiful young woman. It's Elsa. Don't screw this up. You only have one chance for a first impression. "Oh, I was just commenting on this work," I say, in a slight German accent. She knew I said English, there's no point in switching to German as I was supposed to introduce myself in. I glance at the painting in front of me. Thankfully, it's one I don't like. "This shows a clear lack of effort."

"Is...is that her?" Macy asks. I don't reply. "Are you talking to Elsa?"

"Even if he is not, he cannot reply to you while in conversation with someone else," Akari states.

"Well, I would disagree," she says in a very thick accent. Her voice is soft and gentle, her smile warm. She's wearing a solid plum color dress. It's full length, reaching the floor and it defines her upper half very well. It's off the shoulder with a low cut with a straight neckline. "I think it's a very nice arrangement of color."

"Yes, yes," I say, nodding along, "but a child could recreate this, perhaps create something more inspiring." Elsa laughs.

"Way, is that her? Sigh if it's not, clear your throat if it is," Macy orders.

I clear my throat subtly which gets the others to finally shut up. "Just, abstract art has so much potential yet here we are with this...lack of effort."

Elsa smile at me, turning to face the painting. It's a light blue and teal color splash with orange accents. "The blue and teal work together and the use of a middle complementary color for accent emphasizes the difference."

"Understood, but they could have chosen a better color for the complimentary," I say. "Maybe a soft coral color or a warm salmon. Not this...neon pumpkin." Elsa chuckles at my comment. "To each their own, though. Art is as limitless as the creator's imagination."

"That's beautiful," she says.

"As are you," I reply. She parts her mouth but ends up faltering in a smile. "I've spent this entire evening so far viewing painting worth thousands of dollars yet just now I see an artwork worth a million bucks."

"You flatter me," she says, her cheeks rosy. "Are you here alone?"

"Would it be terrible if I said yes?"

She chuckles. "Not at all, I am too. Are you here for business or pleasure?"

"A bit of both, I'd like to say. My work had made a generous donation to the gala and a few colleges and I had the fortune of attending. Granted, we all drove separately and I haven't run into many of them. Maybe for the best."

"Ah, and where is it you work?" she asks.

"At a university." She looks at me surprised. "I am a professor of American Literature and Poetry."

"Really?" she asks delightfully. "That's so wonderful, I love poetry."

I smile at her. "Oh, something in common. And what about you? Business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure," she answers. Eh, I doubt that but Gerard Warh wouldn't. "Art is, in fact, a guilty pleasure of mine. Everyone here is just here to be here. If you know what I mean." She tilts her head forward.

"I do, making an appearance at a pretentious event for the sake of bragging rights."

"Couldn't have said it better. But you seem to know art."

"I've studied many of the arts from the visual to the performing and the fine arts. It's all wonderful."

"Yes, it is," she says. I'm not sure what to say after this. I need to continue it though. Lucky, she does the work for me. "I just got here, have you viewed these artworks yet?"

"I've made my rounds," I say.

"Care to show me the ones you found interesting?"

"Gladly." I hold out my arm and she takes it. "I never caught your name," I say.

"I never gave it to you," she teases. "What do I look like?"

I glance at her, giving a soft smile. "You look like an angel," I say. She pouts her lip, having fallen for another compliment. "But I am curious, what is your name?"

"It's Elsa. And you?"

"Elsa? That's a lovely name, I'd be sure to remember it. I'm Gerard."

"I have never met a Gerard before," she comments. "but the one I do know, I do like."

Walking around the gala, we look at the artworks displayed in the east wing more so. We have favorites, some of them we argue about, others we both enjoy. Neither of us runs out of things to talk about and when we finished with all the pieces worth viewing, two hours have already passed.

"Oh, goodness," Elsa says, "it's nearly 10 p.m."

"Time flies," I say.

"Way, don't let her walk out on you, you need to see her again," Macy says. I tune her out. Yeah, you only told me that a dozen times.

Elsa shifts her stance, waiting for me to say something else. Well, she doesn't want to leave that's for sure. "You know something?" I say. "The food here, it's great an all, but it's very unsubstantial. How about you and I go somewhere to sit down and eat something."

"You had me at sit down," she says. "Where to?"

"I know a lot of places. You tell me what you want to eat and I'll take you to get the best of it. What do you say?"

"I like the idea of it. I honestly could go for saftgulash, know any place?"

"In fact, the one that comes to mind is in the city." She smiles and I gesture toward the front. After getting her jacket, we head out, leaving the place.

"Shall I get my driver?" she asks.

"If you want," I say, "it's only a few blocks down."

"Mm, we can walk." Stepping out through the doors, a gust of wind blows up. "Oh goodness," she mutters, pulling on her jacket to close it up.

"Do you want to run?" I ask teasingly. She pauses to think about it. "Do you actually?"

"You know what? Why not?" She slides off her shoes and picks them up. I take her free hand and lightly jog down the steps, leading the way with her giggling behind me.

When we get to the place, she slips her shoes back on and we head in. Like the gala, it goes smoothly. Dinner takes a while, considering not many places are open but it doesn't matter, we find plenty of things to talk about. Occasionally glancing around the restaurant, I notice there are a couple familiar faces from the gala. She probably has people keeping an eye on her, body guards. That's expected. There's a woman with a dark grey dress that looks like a very generic woman, nothing about her is very prominent or attention seeking. She's there only to blend in. No flashy jewelry, no bright colors on her clothes, nothing to make her memorable. But her hair. While it's up in a simple do, it's jet black, like mine. Mostly German and Austrian people have fair blonde hair, a few are brunette. But black, it's very uncommon which is why I remembered her. There's another gentleman, very large, also generic. I remember seeing him earlier, recalling him for his height.

The waiters give us our food and everything is really good. Elsa picks a bottle of wine but I just have water. The evening is going well, conversation moving. I didn't expect her to be this charismatic so I thought I would have to be straining to get her to go along with this. It's not difficult to date someone and use that to find things out, but if she didn't want to date me, that would've been impossible on its own. Thankfully, she's interested, at least, interested enough to have dinner with me. She could have just been hungry.

The waiter comes back with the check. Before I can get it, she takes it from him and slides her card in. He leaves and I stare at her while she sits innocently in her chair sipping the last of her wine. "You didn't have to do that, I could've," I say softly.

"Yes, well, consider your payment showing me around the gala and taking me here. I've enjoyed this evening."

"Well, thank you for dinner," I say. "Hope you enjoyed."

"Oh, very much, I've never been here before but I intend on coming back now." When the waiter comes back, she takes her card and smiles. I thank him and tell him to have a good night in German and the two of us stand up to head out. She's slightly tipsy while walking out, I take her hand to help keep her balanced. "Ah, you're just as good as German as you are English," Elsa says.

"I speak many languages," I say.

"As do," she says. "So you know German, English...Austrian?"

I shake my head. "No, not Austrian, or Hungarian. Just German, which has always been enough to get around." She nods her head. "Russian?"

"Da," she says. "I want to assume Spanish."

"Si," I say. "What else do you know?"

"The ones you said and also Serbian," she pauses, waiting to see my answer but I shake my head, "and Arabic."

"I know Arabic," I say in the language, which surprises her. I smile, amused at impressing her. "I also know Italian, French...Slavic, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean." We head to the front of the restaurant and I hold the door open for her.

"Wow, very impressive," she says, spinning around to face me. "That's more than I know." She pauses and smiles. "You must have a very talented tongue."

"In more ways than you know," I whisper softly but she hears me. It's quiet on the coms but I know they're listening and recording. They haven't said anything in a while, letting me do my job without any distractions. Whatever, I'll have to get over it since I'm supposed to get close to her. Shifting my stance, I glance at her for a moment. "For now at least."

"You plan on changing that?" she asks in a challenging manner.

I smile at her unsure of what to do. The two of us stand outside the restaurant facing each other. "Well, my plan for tonight didn't involve meeting you, however, I found that tonight went better than originally anticipated," I say. "Come on, let me walk you home." I hold out my arm and she takes it, using me to lean on for support.

We get to her place and she unlocks the door to her house. "Ready?" she asks, stumbling through the doorway.

I pause for a second. I can't do this. Not right now. "I was actually going to head home now," I say still standing outside her house.

She looks at me confused. "Wait, you don't want to come in?" she asks. I look at her softly and shake my head. "But you were going to pay for me...and you walked me home."

"I just made sure you got home safe," I say.

Elsa looks at me somewhat wearily. "You just dropped me off? That's all you wanted?"

I pause, not sure how to play this smoothy. "Yes?" She looks at me unsure of what to say. "Is that...wrong?"

"No, that's really nice," she says, leaning against her door. Her voice gets soft and she looks happy. She's probably wine drunk. "Honestly, you plan on going home now?"

"I was going to ask you for your number, call you tomorrow." She's still shocked or surprised, baffled, I don't know. "Elsa?"

"Right, right," she says, stepping back out. I take out my phone and hand it to her. "A part of me thought you were only interested in this whole evening because you wanted to get lucky tonight," she says while typing in her number. She hands it back to me and sighs gently.

I smile at her. "Oh, but I did get lucky. I got this beautiful girl's phone number and maybe a second date?"

She playfully rolls her eyes at me, stepping back toward her house. "Only if you call me." I start walking back toward the sidewalk.

"Consider it done," I say, turning around and walking back toward the sidewalk.

"Wait," she calls out. She runs over to me once again and catches my hand then quickly kisses my cheek. I stop, looking into her eyes. "Goodnight," she says with an innocent smile.

"Goodnight." I kiss the top of her head and we part ways. She heads back inside her house then shuts the door and I keep walking down the sidewalk.

"So," I whisper quietly. "Am I walking back to Salzburg or are you getting me?"

"Brendon is on his way," Akari says. I nod along, not that they can see me nodding. "That went better than I thought."

"You're telling me," I mutter.

"Yes, you're quite the gentleman," Macy says with an edge to her voice. I know where this is going. "She invited you in and you didn't take it."

"She's drunk," I say.

"She was fine," Macy says.

"She had a whole bottle of wine herself, I didn't. And I wasn't intending on anything transpiring of that sort in the first place."

"But you-"