Access Denied: The Bullseye

13. Linnéa & Jon

Did he change his name to Rothstein like his brother?

"I can't help but ask," he gently said, bringing her back. The large circle was speaking softer. Some of them were crowding around them. "Why don't you have a Swedish accent? I've met great Swedes before, none of them with the accent though."

Did he suspect her? When they first met all those years ago, she had said something and he had asked why she didn't say 'about' the way Canadians did. "After all, you are Canadian, aren't you Nevi?" But now Redstone just stood there and smiled, waiting patiently for her answer. More people were listening in now. The circle was breaking up—most likely because their centre (Redstone) had shifted. Kiara had told her to breathe when something like this happened. She had told Genevieve to keep eye contact, maybe laugh and do anything but freeze. "It gives you time and adds importance to whatever you'll say," Kiara had said.

So, with one deep breath, Genevieve gave him the same answer she did when she was nineteen. "I went to school here. And my mother's Swiss. I hardly think there would be any room left for Swedish tongue."

Redstone took a step closer and laughed. It was a hearty laugh. Not the cold sadistic smile he smiled when he found out Genevieve was Jack's sister. Genevieve's hand went to the pocket where the pendant was and tucked it away once more. "I was thinking," he spoke right next to her ear. The circle around them dispersed. They weren't facing each other anymore, but Redstone was right next to her comms unit that was a earing. "Since you can't find your date and I don't have one for the next dance... maybe, we could dance together."

Having a clear view of everything now that the circle was less dense and Redstone wasn't directly in front of her, Genevieve could finally sigh. A blond haired boy man with bangs stood next to a tall skinny girl with long black hair, maroon nails and red lips. Lips that were dangerously close to Flynn's neck. But despite that Genevieve smiled and turned, so Redstone was facing her again. "I'm sorry. I really am," she told him. "But I think I see my date and I promised all my dances to him. So..."

He let out a sigh and slumped back a bit, hands slipping inside his pockets. "Fine. You're missing out though."

Sure I am. She took that as her cue to leave. As quick as she could in this dress.

"I have something we could do."

"I don't think you understand—" she heard Flynn say.

With a strappy short red dress and strawberry blonde hair underneath what was clearly a wig, the girl hanging off Flynn's arm said: "Look, if you don't want to dance, I get it. But I still kinda want to. So. Here is what we are going to do."

She had a voice as light as air, but still commanding at the same time. Like perfectly manicured nails on a chalk board. You can't stand the sound, but don't want to look away. Genevieve made her way toward them.

But she was already pulling Flynn to the floor.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, they went back into the pocket, fingering the bathroom pendant. "We are going to dance and then we're gonna sneak out of here and meet up with some of my friends, because honestly they have much better... catering. If you catch my drift. Which you will, soon enough. But, my brother cannot see us, catch us, even notice that we are gone. That might cause us some problems—"

"Excuse me," Genevieve interrupted. Flynn immediately lightened up. "I was looking for you all over, Jonathan! Where were you?"

Relief covered his face. Flynn looked happy to see her. Jonathan looked happy to see her. "I was right here." His accent was on point—at least that's what Genevieve thought an on point Swedish accent would sound like. "The whole time. I thought to look for you, but then I found the lovely Lauretta Rothstein. She makes for a great conversationalist."