I, Spy? (Sophie Green Mysteries, No. 1) (Sophie Green Mystery)

something else.
    “Bad break up,” she said, and I repeated it. “Swore to work alone after that.”
    “So I’m sort of surprised you’re working with someone else on this,” I said to Wright. “She must be very special.”
    “Oh, she is.”
    “Is she a well-known figure?” I didn’t want to ask outright for a name. Didn’t want to push him too far. He didn’t look too bright, but then, neither did I.
    Hmm.
    “No, no, she’s very private. Totally unknown.”
    “But obviously she knows a lot about this venture, about the world of finance,” I said. “I mean, I've been looking into this,” I said, looking down at my miraculously empty champagne glass modestly, “and there are a few names I’ve become familiar with.” I started randomly casting around. “I know Helen Shilton said she’d kill to work with you.”
    “Really?” Wright said, looking interested. “Helen Shilton?”
    Jesus, don’t tell me there really is a Helen Shilton.
    “Who?” Luke and Alexa said at the same time.
    “But then obviously it’s not her,” I added quickly. “Is it a name I might know?” I asked coyly.
    Wright tapped his nose. “I’ll never tell.”
    “But surely I’ll find out sooner or later when she starts buying up shares in my company?”
    “Oh, is it your company now?” Wright said teasingly, and I knew I’d lost him. “What did you say your name was?”
    “Antonia, er, Portman.”
    “Porter,” Luke hissed in my ear.
    “I’m sure I know you,” Wright said, peering closer.
    “No, I just have one of those faces. Would you like some more champagne?” I trilled, grabbing another couple of glasses.
    “Not for me. You have some,” he said generously.
    How kind. Especially since it was free.
    “No more,” Luke said firmly as I lifted the glass to my lips, and I nearly spilled it. Was he watching me? “Get him drunk.”
    “I can’t have any more,” I pressed both glasses on Wright. “It goes straight to my head. Must be the, er, bubbles.”
    “Airhead,” Luke sniggered, and was ignored.
    “Me too,” Wright said. “Don’t drink much.”
    Fantastic.
    “Can I not tempt you at all?” I said, fluttering my eyelashes.
    “Not with champagne,” Wright said, and actually winked.
    Ugh.
    Luke was laughing in my ear. “I think maybe you should get out of there,” he said.
    Oh, God, please yes.
    “I have a room just upstairs,” Wright said, and I nearly gagged.
    “Really?” I said. “Well, why don’t you go up there and I’ll, I’ll get my things and follow you up.”
    “You won’t need a thing,” Wright said, leaning close. I leaned back.
    “You won’t say that when you see what I have in my bag,” I managed, and I could hear Luke laughing.
    Wright’s piggy eyes were all lit up. “Room 305,” he said. “Five minutes.”
    Jesus.
    I watched him scamper away, little piggy that he was, and turned in disgust to see Luke standing about ten feet away.
    “That was a hell of a show,” he said, grinning.
    “Yeah, thanks.”
    “So what do you have in your bag?”
    “Lots of things that could be fashioned into weapons.”
    “Just weapons? You didn’t bring the cuffs?”
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was a bondage party.”
    He laughed. “Room 305 probably is. Right.” He took one of my champagne glasses and turned away from the crowd. I had to stretch to see what he was doing, but it looked like he was tipping something into the glass.
    “What’s that?”
    “Sleeping powder. Five minutes and he’ll be out.” He grabbed a waiter and presented him with the glass. “Could you take this to Room 305, please? Compliments of Miss Antonia Port er —” he gave me a severe look, “—who desires him to drink it straight away as a prelude to the party. Those words exactly.”
    The waiter nodded and went away with the glass.
    “That’s that,” Luke said. “He’ll think it’s Viagra or something.”
    “From the way he was walking I don’t think he’ll need it,” I muttered, and Luke laughed out loud.
    “Right,” he said. “Five minutes. Wanna dance?”
    They weren’t playing a waltz any more, but we danced one anyway, feeling foolish, giggling a lot. Or at least I was. Luke looked very amused and held me so close I could hear the squashed crackle of his microphone in my ear.
    “I can hear you,” I said.
    “Well, I am right here.”
    “No, I mean here.” I took my hand from his shoulder and placed it on his chest. “I can hear your heart