Then again, everyone here looks awfully stylish. Half the girls we pass on our way down the road could very well be models, with their velvet thigh-high boots and designer belts and bouncy, curled hair.

I run a self-conscious hand over my own plain shirt and leggings, then shake the thought away.

I’m not here to walk a runway; I’m here to complete a task and get my money.

Besides, if all goes according to plan, I’ll be invisible soon anyway.

“So. Where do you want to go?” Henry asks, his steps falling in line with mine. Our shoulders are just close enough to touch, which, I realize, isn’t something I should be noticing.

I shoot him a strange look. “Wherever Vanessa is. Where else would we go?”

“We could grab dinner first... Maybe walk around a bit—”

“And possibly miss out on our target?” My voice rises an octave with incredulity. Henry’s always been annoyingly cavalier about all the Beijing Ghost tasks, but even for him, this seems a frivolous suggestion. “Or risk bumping into her before we gather our evidence? All for a—a meal? I don’t think so. Plus, I ate a granola bar before coming here. I’m good.”

He makes a small, exasperated noise with the back of his throat. Stops walking so abruptly I almost trip. “Alice.”

“What?”

But whatever he’s about to say is lost to the swell of orchestral music in the background. The screen above us flickers, and the brilliant wash of gold light is replaced by vivid hues of red and pink. Projected roses bloom over the giant screen’s corners, magnified to the size of the outdoor dining table we’ve stopped beside, and images start flashing over the center.

Couple selfies. Shots of a pretty girl in her late twenties clearly taken by someone who knows her on an intimate level: pictures of her posing at a beach, smiling from the opposite end of a dinner table, hugging a cat and teddy bear in the comfort of her kitchen.

Then snippets of text pop up on the screen as well, written in pretty, enlarged italics.

You’re beautiful...

I’ve loved you ever since
we met in high school...

Gasps and cheers arise from the many onlookers around us as they realize the same thing I do—

It’s a proposal.

“This seems very unnecessary,” I mutter as I scan the rapidly gathering crowd. People are running—actually running—to some distant spot outside a Guess store, where I can vaguely make out the shape of a man bending down on one knee. As cheesy as the proposal is, if Vanessa happens to already be here, she seems like the type who’d join the crowd. Maybe I could spot her from here, and follow her...

“I think it’s rather romantic,” Henry says lightly, while more roses threaten to take over the entire illuminated screen.

I whip my head back to stare at him. “If this is your idea of romance, I’m somewhat concerned for your future girlfriend.”