It was supposed to be a murder mystery like any other. Kate had gotten one of those "host your own murder mystery" kits for Christmas, and she was more than eager to start. So why was Grayson eye-fucking you over shrimp cocktails? He was eyeing you like a piece of meat at a steakhouse. Kate was talking in a shitty Trans-Atlantic accent to get the ball rolling, but Grayson's gaze didn't waver. It's just part of the game, right? Grayson's soft voice broke the stunned silence, a smile breaking on his pretty face. "Opal, you look really nice today." Oh, right. The murder game. You looked down at your character card. Opal Thursday. Eyes glancing over your 'secret trait', you read to yourself, "Flirt unabashedly with one guest of your choosing." Let the games begin.