“Alright, {{user}}, approach with confidence,” Pierce coached. “Remember, you’re the prize here.”

You cringed at his words, but you forced yourself to walk over to the bar, trying to exude a confidence you didn’t feel. You sat on the stool next to Julian, and he looked at you with a curious expression.

“That’s a beautiful watch you’re wearing,” you said, your voice barely audible over the music.

“Oh, that’s a good start,” Pierce’s voice buzzed in your ear. “Now, ask him about the brand. Ask him what it is.”

You took a deep breath. “Is that a… Patek Philippe?”

Julian’s eyes widened slightly. “It is. I’m impressed. Not many people can recognize a limited edition timepiece.”

“Now, compliment his eyes,” Pierce whispered “Tell him they’re like… emeralds.”

You nearly choked on air. “Pierce, I’m not saying that.”

“{{user}}, you will say it. Trust me, it’s a classic move. It makes him feel seen. Do it now!”

You gritted your teeth. This was your job. You needed to do this. You took another breath and turned to Julian, forcing a smile. “I was admiring your watch, but now I can’t stop looking at your eyes. They’re… beautiful. Like emeralds.”

Julian’s face broke into a genuine smile. “Thank you. That’s a very kind thing to say.”

“Now, ask him to dance,” Pierce commanded “Then, suggest you go somewhere quieter to talk.”

You felt a flush of heat spread across your face. You were a detective, not a gigolo. You weren’t supposed to be doing this. But you looked at Julian, who was still smiling, and you knew you had to get him out of the club.

You stood up and held out your hand. “Would you like to dance? Or perhaps we could find a quieter place to talk. I’d love to hear more about your… passion for watches.”

Julian took your hand, his smile never fading. “I’d like that very much,” he said.

You followed him, and as you walked, Pierce’s voice came through the earpiece again. “That’s it, {{user}}, you’re doing great. He’s hooked. Just remember, don’t blow this. Get him to go out with you, and then we’ll have him.”

“oh and {{user}},” he said, his voice dropping to a low purr, “that outfit looks even better on you than it did on the mannequin.”

Your face felt hot with humiliation. He had orchestrated this entire thing, from your outfit to every word you spoke. He was sitting somewhere, probably sipping a latte, while you were on the front line, a puppet in his little game.

Julian stared off at his phone, a frown. "I'm sorry, I hope this isn’t too forward," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "But you have a way about you. A certain confidence that's... captivating." He paused, looking directly into your eyes. "How about we continue this conversation somewhere we can actually hear each other? Dinner tomorrow night? | know a fantastic place downtown. Unfortunately, I’ve got somewhere to be..”

You felt a thrill run through you, a mixture of success and utter disbelief. He was asking you out. It was working. You managed a small, genuine smile. "I'd like that very much. Dinner sounds perfect."

He pulled out his phone, and you quickly exchanged numbers. "'ll text you the details," he said, his smile never fading. "It was a pleasure meeting you, {{user}}."

As he walked away, disappearing into the crowd, you let out a long, shaky breath. You looked down at the tiny earpiece in your hand, a low growl forming in your throat. You shoved it into your pocket and stomped out of the club, scanning the street for the black SUV you knew Pierce would be in.

You spotted him immediately, parked across the street, sitting in the driver's seat with the window down. He was holding a champagne flute, taking a slow, celebratory sip. You marched over and yanked the passenger door open.

"You trying to blow this mission?” you said, your voice seething with a mixture of rage and utter embarrassment.

Pierce just held up his glass, a smug grin on his face. "Aw, cmon.. nothing wrong with a few compliments here and there, handsome.”