loud.”
I cringed.
“Joke,” she said. “Now that we’ve talked about it, I’ll probably think about it during, and it’ll ruin the mood.”
“I hope not.” I headed for the door. “I’ll see you this evening.”
“Hey, Cecily?”
I stopped, my hand on the knob. “Yeah?” I turned around.
“I know that the Veronica Waite benefit isn’t exactly your thing, but I do have an extra ticket, and there’ll be free food and champagne. Do you want to come with me?”
“Me?” I was surprised she’d ask me. “There’s gotta be someone else you want to ask.”
“Actually, no, I don’t know anyone except people at Bold! and they’re already going to be there. You’re so outgoing and brave and stuff. You can just talk to anyone, even masked vigilantes, so I guess you probably don’t get that, but—”
“No, I understand,” I said. “And I’m not that outgoing.”
“Well, you’re pretty much my only friend in this town. And I think it would be fun.”
When she put it like that, how could I say no? “Of course I’ll come.”
She beamed.
Man, did I feel bad for thinking all the semi-mean things I’d thought about Airenne.
* * *
I was in a dress I’d borrowed for Airenne, since she’d claimed that I didn’t have anything appropriate for the Veronica Waite benefit. And it was true, I didn’t really own much in the way of dress-up clothes. My idea of dressed up was generally to throw a blazer over my jeans and call it business casual.
I had to admit that it had been fun getting ready together.
And I thought I looked pretty hot in the dress that Airenne had lent me. It was a sleeveless gold number, with embroidered trim around the edges. There was a slit on one side, which I thought was super sexy.
The benefit was being held in Callum Rutherford’s mansion. I’d never been inside a house that was big and elaborate enough to have its own ballroom. But that was where we were. The house was historic. It had supposedly been built in the 1800s after the Rutherford family had built its fortune. It was beautiful and enormous. Diamond chandeliers dripped from the ceiling. Landscapes and still lifes hung on the walls. The floor was polished white marble.
Callum Rutherford himself was in attendance, with a busty blonde on each arm. He wore an royal blue suit, which made his blue eyes pop on his flawless face. He grinned and conversed easily with the other guests. He had a lazy charm, I had to admit.
Airenne and I were watching him across the room, but it was different to see him in person as opposed to TV. He had charisma.
“I have to talk to him,” said Airenne. “I have to get a quote for the piece I’m doing.”
“Okay,” I said.
“I’m nervous.” She fiddled with her clutch purse. “I bet you never get nervous.”
“I get nervous all the time. You think when I went out the other night dressed like a hooker, I didn’t feel nervous?”
“You didn’t act nervous,” she said.
“And therein lies the answer. Don’t act nervous.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll just go over and introduce myself.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You’re a reporter. You’re doing a job. You have to talk to him.”
She nodded. “Right.” She smoothed her hair. She took a step. She looked at me. “Come with me?”
I laughed. “Okay.”
Together, we made our way across the room towards Callum. On the way, a waiter with a tray of champagne flutes saw us, and we stopped to each take a glass.
Callum was seated at on an antique couch. One of his blondes perched next to him. He had a casual hand resting on her knee. The other blonde stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder.
It was creepy, I thought. Kind of like he had Stepford bodyguards or something.
The girls were clearly ornamentation for him, part of his image. I imagined that he changed them out weekly when he got bored.
We approached him. He grew closer and closer with every step.
He leaned forward and whispered something in
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