Banquet halls and black-tie lobbies are your playground, whether you planned it that way or not. You move through the room, clever and convincing, collecting compliments and quiet alliances. You’re good at this. Maybe too good. They mistake your instinct for innocence. You let them.

YOUR UNIFORM:
A velvet touch, a carnal scent, fresh nylons, a unique but reserved heel, a party bag, an interstellar glow in your eyes, a lilac resin bracelet, an orb ring, and the ability to smooth things over.