She only knew his name from the badge pinned to his top, and they had only exchanged pleasantries in the past. “Morning Charlie! Here’s your usual...” Charlotte smiled at the casual use of her name, then walked over to Tony to pick up the large and heavy box of stationary. “Thanks very much. Busy day?” she asked, walking over to the door behind her desk. Opening it revealed a small room, lined with shelves full to the brim with staplers, paper, pens, sellotape-anything you could possibly need as. When Ada first met him in the drawing room of the French embassy, he was wearing a tuxedo—and wearing it quite well—and was the center of an obviously erudite conversation in French with a small, select group of diplomats and Malay government leaders. If it hadn’t been for his Chinese features, dark bronze skin, and the pony tail that his black hair was pulled into, Ada would have assumed he was yet another European ambassador. But, no, she had thought. He was much too powerfully built to be. More

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