Page 39 of Silver Lining (The Diamond Trilogy 3)
The fundraiser is held at a fancy hotel because of course it is. This is probably our only lucky break. Adam escorts me in through the front doors. We pretend to head for the check-in desk at the lobby, then change course, meandering toward the enormous ballroom along the back of the hotel. Soft music makes a backdrop for the swells of powerful people talking.
We get rid of our coats at the coat check, and then it’s time to go in.
The party could be the same one London and I went to in that Italian castle several lifetimes ago. It’s the same scene, different setting. Men in dark suits. Women in jewel-toned dresses. Bubbling drinks and subtle decorations and the thick scent of money.
My stomach drops. There are too many people in here, and if Adam is right, then any one of them could be the one who’s keeping Elijah from me. Any one of them could be the person who was controlling the colonel. The U.S. government is a hydra. Cut off one head, and another one grows in its place.
Adam puts a steadying hand on the small of my back. “Think of it as window shopping.”
“Seriously?”
“We’re just looking for anything that stands out.”
I want to laugh, but if I start, I might not stop. So I press my lips together and follow Adam into the fray.
I’m bracing myself to fake small talk with one of the other women fluttering around the room when someone jostles Adam. Another man in a suit. He turns around with a practiced smile on his face. “My apologies—I didn’t see you there. I’m Senator Ewan York.”
Adam shakes his hand without missing a beat and gives a fake name for both of us.
The senator has a nasty bruise on his forehead, and he sees me looking. “Oh, that. A skiing accident. They call them double black diamonds for a reason.”
Adam laughs, and the senator goes on to tell us how a near-miss on the slopes resulted in him going headfirst into buried ice. “Oh, no,” I hear myself say. “I’m glad you were all right.”
The senator’s eyes light on me. “The company of a beautiful woman could speed up the healing process. Perhaps you’d let me tell you about my new clean air initiative.”
Every inch of my skin crawls, but I force myself to put on a smile. In this room of people with perfect spray tans and perfect clothes, the bruise is an ugly departure. “I could use a drink and some conversation.”
Adam seems distracted. Bored enough to let the senator “steal me away” for a trip to the bar. He offers me his elbow and I take it, stomach turning. He tells me more about his ski trip while we approach the bar and he orders two of the signature drinks. All of the details are surface level, like he read a Wikipedia article about tourism in Aspen.
I’m nearing old age when he reaches the end of his story. “What brings a woman like you to our little party tonight? I haven’t seen you at one of these fundraisers before.”
I wave a hand next to my head, murmur something about how loud it is, and steer us toward one of the exits. “Oh, that’s better,” I say in the open air of the hallway. Several smaller ballrooms line the hall, all of them dark, and I pretend to choose a direction at random. The farther we are from the rest of these people, the better. “I came here to meet a friend of a friend.”
The senator has put his hand low on one of my hips, and he slowly works it around to my back. “Is this friend of a friend destined to remain a secret?”
“He knew someone I met through...complicated circumstances.” I frown a little, to show him this might be difficult to talk about, and lean toward one of the empty ballrooms. The senator comes willingly. He moves us into the cut of light from the ballroom door, still letting me hover on the edge of safety. “A certain colonel who recently met a bad end.”
His eyes turn mean and dark, a fist clenching by his side. “Who the hell are you?”
“My real name is Holly Frank.”
“So you’re the tits and ass.”
My eyes narrow. “What a gentleman. I’m sure your constituents would be thrilled to know they elected a person like you. Maybe we should go out there and tell them what you’re really like.”
“My constituents don’t give a fuck how I treat little sluts like you.”
That’s probably not an amazing sound bite for him, but I’m not satisfied with a comment that some news sites won’t even air. I want a full confession. “Elijah told me all about you. How you gave orders to the colonel, how you’re going to find another Army front man now that he’s dead. I know everything.”
