Page 28 of Porcelain Lies

“The way he ordered dinner,” I sigh, curling deeper into the couch cushions. “Perfect Russian, not even glancing at the menu. Like money wasn’t even a consideration.”

Hannah nods eagerly. “You said it was Russian. Which one was it?”

“Petroushka. That new place downtown everyone’s been raving about.”

“Shut up!” Hannah’s eyes go wide. “That place is impossible to get into. My boss tried for weeks to book a table for a client meeting.”

“He just walked in and…” I wave my hand, remembering how the maître d’ practically bowed. “The staff knew him. Or knew of him, at least.”

“Did you see his watch?” Hannah leans forward, her investigative instincts kicking in. “Car? Any designer labels?”

“Bespoke suit. It was made for him… had to have been.” I close my eyes, picturing the perfect fit across his shoulders. “Patek Philippe watch. But not flashy, you know? Like he wasn’t trying to show off. It was just… natural.”

“Girl.” Hannah shakes her head. “You found yourself a real-life Russian oligarch.”

“Found and lost.” I pick at a loose thread on my skirt. “He was gone when I got out of the shower. Just left a note about checkout time.”

“Men.” Hannah rolls her eyes, then suddenly sits up straight. “Oh! Speaking of men — I completely forgot to tell you my news with all this drama!”

The excitement in her voice makes me lift my head. “What news?”

Hannah bounces on the couch cushion, her red curls wild with excitement. “I got the promotion! Full agent status, not just an assistant anymore.”

“What?” I sit up straighter, my own troubles momentarily forgotten. “Han, that’s incredible!”

“I know!” She beams, practically vibrating. “I start next week. Real assignments, not just paperwork and coffee runs.”

“Details. I need all of them.” The familiar role of supportive best friend feels like slipping into a warm bath after the chaos of the last twenty-four hours.

“Well, I can’t tell you everything, obviously. Because then I’d have to kill you.”

I shove her arm. “Dork!”

“Okay, fine.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “I’ll be working protection detail. You know those fancy diplomatic events you’re always organizing? I might actually get to attend some now — though I’ll be scanning for threats instead of sipping champagne.”

“Protection detail?” My eyebrows shoot up. “Like, actually guarding people?”

“Yep.” She pats her hip, where I know she normally keeps her concealed weapon. “All that training is finally paying off. Though Mom’s still telling everyone I work in ‘government administration.’”

“Because that sounds so much better than ‘secret agent.’” I lean forward, curiosity piqued. “So, what exactly does protection detail involve? Will you be wearing those cool earpieces and talking into your sleeve?”

Hannah’s blue eyes sparkle. “Maybe. Depends on the assignment. But first, I have to complete another round of specialized training…”

“So, you’ll be carrying a gun all the time now?” I lean forward, fascinated by this new side of my best friend.

“Already do.” Hannah pats her hip again. “But now I’ll be authorized to use it in more situations. Plus, there’s all kinds of cool gadgets they’re training us on.”

“Like what?”

“Can’t tell you specifics.” She winks. “But let’s just say James Bond has nothing on our tech department.”

“God, this is so weird.” I shake my head, studying her familiar freckled face. “My sweet, baking-obsessed roommate is actually a badass federal agent.”

“Hey, I can be both!” Hannah protests. “The best covers are the ones hiding in plain sight. No one suspects the girl who stress-bakes chocolate chip cookies at midnight.”

“Speaking of which…” I sniff the air. “Are your muffins burning?”

“Shit!” She bolts toward the kitchen, returning moments later with a tray of slightly overdone but still edible cinnamon muffins. “See? Perfect agent behavior. Creating a believable domestic mishap to maintain my cover.”

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