Page 56 of Masked Secrets
“Just how close is close?” Cassie asks with raised eyebrows.
“He’s a good guy, but it’s purely business between us,” I say, tapping my toe nervously.
“He’s hot as hell. I’d be pushing the business boundaries if it were me,” Lowri whispers conspiratorially, so the people jostling past us won’t hear.
“I can’t. He’s ... umm ...relatedto a client,” I say, staring at my hand as I twirl my ring, avoiding their questioning eyes.
“Isn’t the Foundation the client? Is he on the board or something?” Cassie asks.
“No, he’s not part of the Foundation. He’s filling in for his dad, who is the head of the Foundation.”
“Then you have a green light. Go for him,” Lowri encourages.
“He’s a viscount who lives in London. Even if I were interested, which I’m not, it would never work. Besides, you saw his morning show interview yesterday. There’s no one special in his life.”
Lowri’s and Cassie’s jaws drop in unison.
“Oh. My. God. You slept with him before he said that, didn’t you?” Lowri gasps.
I stare at her in stunned horror, not able to speak as I clutch my evening bag tightly.
Cassie chimes in apologetically, “We shouldn’t be prying. It’s just that you looked so happy when we saw the two of you together.”
“I’ll admit that we’ve enjoyed our time together. But it can’t be anything else. It was just a few days. Time to tuck a fewmemories away and move on. It’s not like it was really all that special anyway.”
“Don’t be so sure. Have you spoken about the interview?” Cassie asks.
“No. What’s the point?” I ask, taking a deep breath to steady myself.
“For all you know, that was just his stock answer when asked about relationships. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re not special to him,” Cassie suggests.
“I hadn’t thought of that. It doesn’t matter now though.” I close my eyes, tears threatening to fall. Fortunately, my mask hides some of my emotions.
“Why doesn’t it matter?” Lowri asks.
I hesitate before answering. After an awkward silence, I close my eyes and say, “I told him that it’s business only going forward. I was rude and cold to him. Besides, I refuse to be a clingy, needy woman. We’ve only known each other for a week. It’s not like we were in a relationship. And I’ve never wanted to be. My career is my focus.”
“Believe me, we understand. Neither of us is looking for a relationship either. But ask yourself, will you regret letting him go without a fight? What if this is nothing more than a misunderstanding? Think about it,” Cassie says.
“Thanks. I will. Now go enjoy the evening. And don’t miss out on the food. Given the amount people paid to be here, it must be spectacular.”
“Don’t worry, Cassie will make sure we check out the food. She’s a chef at heart.”
“Lowri’s right. I love to cook. I’m just disappointed they wouldn’t let us bring our mobile phones. I’d love to take photos.”
“I bet Art and José from the PR company have a professional photographer here. After this is over, I’ll reach out to see if they’ll share food photos.”
“That would be great. I always take photos when I come across interesting food ideas. Then I experiment with my own twists and practice attractive plating options,” Cassie says.
“I’ll happily taste test when you’re cooking. But now I need to mingle since our law firm is a sponsor,” I say.
“Sounds good. We’ll find you if we spot Lord Sandridge while perusing the selection of handsome men,” Lowri teases.
I laugh, leaving the jewelry room. Walking farther down the hallway, I find myself in the mansion’s ballroom where dozens of couples are dancing to the live band. The women’s gowns are every color of the rainbow. Some have flowing fabric. Some are tight-fitting and show off every detail. Others are essentially see-through, adopting the current trend toward naked dresses.
A server pauses with a tray of champagne flutes. As I take one, I notice a tux-clad man across the room, whom I’m convinced is Stuart. I’d recognize him anywhere. Suddenly, his head turns, and our eyes lock. A smile of recognition crosses his face. He quickly turns back to the man he’d been talking with. He apparently ended the conversation because he’s quickly walking in my direction.
My heart races. I’m not ready to talk with him, so I turn and hurry out of the ballroom. Seeing a side hall with a stairway in the distance, I make a quick detour in that direction. Instead of climbing the steps, I notice a door leading under the stairs.
