Pimpernel_Royal Ball

by Sheralyn Pratt

  Claire had never seen her boss look offended before.

  Annoyed? Yes.

  Perturbed? Definitely.

  But Claire saw offended for the first time as she watched Malachi chuck Margot on the cheek like she was a five year old.

  Seemingly oblivious to the rage in her eyes, Malachi gave Claire a nod of goodbye before walking away with the lilt of an innocent. The exaggerated spring in his step, combined with his right thumb rubbing his third finger through his glove, made Claire pretty certain Malachi knew he’d just gotten away with murder.

  And to Claire’s surprise, Margot let him. She simply watched him go, holding out her hand as if expecting it to be magically filled. A beat later, a waiter appeared with a glass of red wine. Margot took it, eyes focusing in on Claire’s dress.

  All around them, ornately dressed people carried on conversations while appearing indifferent, but Claire sensed a few people were ready to listen in.

  “This is the part where you explain,” Margot said. “A lot.”

  Oh, man. Where to begin? And should she leave in the part where she wore a Nadia mask?

  Margot’s eyes glanced at Malachi’s retreating form and she took a drink before twirling her finger in the air. “Give me a spin, will you?”

  Claire didn’t have to be asked twice.

  Despite everything, she had been dying to test out the skirt’s movement since she’d walked in. She wasn’t even through her first rotation when the fabric billowed into shape, encouraging her to spin faster. Every time she spotted Margot, her boss was looking over the dress like a designer okaying it for a runway.

  “That’s enough,” Margot said, holding her hand out as if she knew Claire would have trouble stopping. Claire gratefully grabbed onto the gloved hand and let Margot slow her last spin.

  When she faced her boss again, face flushed and wanting to do it again, she saw Margot staring at the dress like a riddle.

  “When did you first see this dress design?” she asked. “You had to have seen it somewhere else before tonight.”

  Weird. How did Margot know that?

  “Y-yes,” Claire said, not eager to divulge the details. “I saw it a while ago and put it on a secret Pinterest board.”

  Margot snorted as if she found that funny, before muttering something under her breath as she sipped her wine and circled for a closer look.

  “How long ago?” Margot asked, checking some of the stitches for quality. “How many months?”

  Claire shook her head, closing up her eyes and pulling up a memory of the dress in bridal tones on her computer screen. “I first saw the dress four weeks and two days ago.”

  Margot took in the dress again and downed the rest of her wine. “Four weeks? Mine’s been in the works for a year, and he pulls that off in four weeks?”

  Claire hadn’t made that correlation yet, but Margot was right. A dress like this would take months to make.

  Margot’s brow furrowed, seeming to take the four-week timeline at her word. “How did he trick you in the fittings?”

  “He didn’t,” Claire said, equally as baffled. “I just put it on in the jet, and it fit.”

  “Of course, it did,” Margot said, and it was the dragged out sarcasm in the tone that made Claire realize her boss might be a little bit drunk. Maybe that should have been self-evident, based on the fact that the woman was reaching for her second glass of wine in almost as many minutes.

  Margot over-drinking?

  She was always so composed. Claire couldn’t imagine what her boss might be like when she was drunk ... although it was possible Margot might be drunk that very moment. Why else would she be closing her eyes as if trying to blink a tension headache away?

  Sober Margot would never show that vulnerability, even for a moment.

  “I…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did he tell you he was playing you for the fool in bringing you here?”

  Claire thought about that, realizing that he had. “Yes. Twice.”

  “Great,” she muttered, looking off in Jack’s direction.

  Claire followed her gaze and found Jack already watching her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she knew right then that she’d made the right choice in coming. Margot might scare her to death, but she was family. And Jack might be way out of her league, but she loved him.

  She loved him.

  They’d been doing their best to avoid the L-word for the past year. But seeing him across the ballroom, now it seemed impossible that Jack might have any doubt of how she felt.

  She needed to say the words. Tonight. And definitely before she changed out of the dress. It was just too perfect.

  I need to talk to you, she thought, hoping he could read her mind.

  Claire was a little embarrassed she didn’t notice Ren standing against the far wall until Margot motioned to him. “We need to get a message to Jack. Quick.”

  When Ren nodded and started away, Margot held out her hand in what Claire recognized as her come-hither to the man with the wine tray. Sure enough, the man was there a beat later—collecting Margot’s glass and starting to hand her a new one, when a woman walked up behind them and waved the man off.

  When Margot looked up to see what was taking her glass so long, she didn’t look at all surprised to see the human equivalent of a walking rose standing where the waiter had just been.

  The new woman took Margot’s awaiting hand in her own and gave it a gentle squeeze before whispering, “Let’s see how the last two land. Then we’ll see about adding on.”

  Technically, Claire didn’t hear the words, but she’d gotten pretty good at reading lips. And if the woman was talking about drinking, then Claire was all-in on that idea. This might be any other weekend in Margot’s world, for all she knew, but Claire kind of needed her boss a little focused so she could find out exactly what her ticket to the ball had cost her.

  Claire glanced to the newcomer, wondering who she was to Margot. They looked about the same age, and just as ridiculously perfect in their own ways. Margot looked untouchable while this other woman was all silk with no sweat marks.

  Claire looked up to study the woman’s face and found bright eyes smiling back at her.

  “I don’t think we’ve met,” she said, releasing Margot’s hand.

  Margot gestured between them. “Selene, this is Claire; she is one of the smartest people I’ve had the pleasure to work with, and is currently employed at my business. Claire meet Selene, the kindest human I know.”

  Selene offered Claire a slight tilt in greeting then smiled again. “You must be gifted if Malachi chose you as his date.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Claire said, chancing a look around. Several pairs of eyes were watching them. “I’m getting the sense he’s not the least-desired bachelor at this ball.”

  Margot laughed while Selene settled for a more demure chuckle.

  “That’s one way to put it,” Selene said, lips pursed as if she had a few much-more-fun ways to “put it” on the top of her tongue.

  “So what’s his story?” Claire asked. “Did I screw up coming with him? I mean, all of this is over-the-top amazing, but if there’s a dark underbelly I don’t know about, I’d just as soon as find out now.”

  Selene smiled and glanced down at Margot. “I can see why you like her.”

  “One in a billion,” Margot muttered, her eyes moving to watch Malachi.

  Regular Margot would have never stared so openly with such a dark look in her eye. But Margot with a few drinks in her system was a little less covert.

  Based on her expression, Margot was not a Malachi fan.

  “Any guesses why he brought me?” Claire asked, wondering what the story was between her escort and her boss.

  “Trust me,” Selene said, glancing his way. “Everyone in this room is wondering the same thing.”

  “Why? Is he famous, or something?”

  “More like infamous,” Margot said.

  Selene—the nicest person in the room,
by Margot’s account—was a little less flippant. “Think of him like a mix between Loki and David Copperfield in our world.”

  “The magician?” Claire asked.

  Both Selene and Margot nodded.

  Malachi was known as a trickster and a magician? And Claire was his date?

  “How did you meet him?” Selene asked, her eyes more than a little curious.

  “He showed up at Margot’s office building a few hours ago—”

  “How?” Margot cut in. “It’s on lockdown for the weekend.”

  Claire felt her cheeks go pink. “I broke in. I thought you and Jack were testing me.”

  Margot’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why would we test you like that?”

  “I…” There was no logical answer for that. Not really. Especially not the Nadia mask part.

  “So you broke into the office, and what happened next?” Selene asked.

  “He was already in there,” Claire replied. “He said if I wanted to keep working with Jack and Margot, I needed to come with him. So here I am.”

  “No dress fittings,” Margot added to Selene, as if that was important. “And she chose the dress four weeks ago.”

  Selene blinked in surprise. “That means—”

  “I know,” Margot growled.

  Wait. What did they know?

  “Since when?” Selene asked.

  “Who knows.”

  Well, Claire was glad Selene and Margot were finding answers because she was starting to feel even more in the dark.

  They both looked up to the pedestal. Toward Jack. But when Claire followed their gaze, she realized they were looking at the woman with the spiky red hair.

  “What am I missing?” Claire asked, feeling totally out of the loop.

  Margot and Selene shared a look.

  “You haven’t told her?” Selene asked.

  Margot shook her head.

  Selene looked skeptical. “Anything?”

  In the background, a sonata for harpsichord and violins started up.

  “Take it up with Jack,” Margot said, looking back at the redhead. “It’s his house, so he makes the calls.”

  Selene turned to Claire with a hint of pity. “Oh, honey. You must be so confused.”

  Thank you! Finally, someone understood her.

  “Yes. Completely,” Claire blurted.

  Selene and Margot shared another look, while Claire watched on—marveling at how much the two women communicated in their glances while keeping their meaning completely over her head.

  Reading body language was Claire’s thing. She did it all day, every day. Accurately. Yet she had no idea what the two women were communicating with their veiled glances, other than the fact that they both seemed to think that the redheaded woman was connected to the dress somehow.

  “I know you two have some sort of unspoken communication figured out,” Claire said. “But anything you’re able to tell me would be greatly appreciated.”

  They shared another indecipherable look. Great.

  Selene sent her a searching look. “Didn’t Malachi tell you anything?”

  “He said to ask questions,” Claire said. “And his mom told me to be careful what I wish for.”

  Both Margot and Selene blinked in surprise.

  “Wait,” Margot said. “His mother spoke to you?”

  “Well, she told Malachi to tell me that.”

  “Ah,” they said in unison. Apparently, that little detail put their world back into order.

  Claire still felt totally in the dark.

  Selene looked ready to try to explain when an elegant man with Margot’s same nose and cheekbones walked up behind and slid his hand into hers. Selene glanced back at the contact, immediately smiling when she saw who it was.

  When Selene’s gaze dropped to the man’s lips, it didn’t take a huge leap in logic for Claire to deduce they were a couple.

  “Did I miss the introductions?” he asked.

  Selene gestured Claire’s way. “This is Claire, the woman Jack wants to bring into the fold; Claire, this is one of Jack’s best friends from childhood, Ethan.”

  The man smiled broadly, bowing his head in greeting. “I also happen to be Selene’s lucky husband, and a little less-lucky to be Margot’s brother.”

  A brother? With a sense of humor?

  Add that to the list of things you didn’t see coming, a little voice mocked in her mind. And it had a point. The list of things Claire hadn’t seen coming was getting pretty long at this point, and she had a sense that things were just getting started.

  Chapter 11

  Jack

  After Augustus’s appearance on the challenger’s platform, a queue of young teens seemed to find the courage to take their turn before the throne. Before the party started, Abed’s mother had coached all the advisers that nights like tonight doubled as a talent show for the kids—an opportunity for young princes and princesses to practice their skills publicly rather than to actually win the spot as Abed’s future mentor.

  That was lucky for Jack because his mind was somewhere else. Or, more importantly, his eyes were somewhere else.

  He was supposed to be looking at the kid turning a rope into a hoop, after which Jack assumed he’d turn the hoop into a ring of fire and then back into an unburned rope.

  The boy must be around sixteen. That was usually when most kids started learning tricks with fire. For obvious reasons, it was one of the last elements they encouraged students to play with. You had to pass off all the others before you got to play with flames and things that went boom.

  The kid was doing fine, but Jack was much more interested in the woman in silver standing just within his line of sight.

  Claire always caught his eye in a room, but tonight … that dress … her complete inability to maintain a poker face … every hope and fear and anxiety flashing across her face like neon closed captions.

  In his world of illusion, Claire was all real, all the time. The only thing that never shifted and the only one who never lied.

  How could he look anywhere else?

  How could he not wonder what she was doing here?

  And how could he forget Tiki saying the ph-word?

  Phoenix.

  If that was why she was here, Jack would send her away himself. He couldn’t throw her to the wolves like that, even if she said that’s where she wanted to be.

  No. Not only could Jack stop that from happening, but he would.

  All Jack could do was pray that he was getting ahead of himself and this was all a big mistake. A hopeful miscalculation that had opened his eyes to the fact that submitting Claire’s name to Arthur for consideration had been a misstep.

  Jack thought he’d be able to handle having Claire on his playing field. Yet all it had taken was a fae saying one word to put him into a tailspin of second-guessing.

  Arthur had said he wanted to talk to Jack after the party. Claire would almost certainly be addressed in that conversation, but Jack wasn’t sure he could vouch for her being a good fit anymore. Arthur had almost certainly run the obligatory background check to make sure she met Royal standards, but all that was contingent on Jack wanting her on his team. If Jack withdrew that offer, then the vetting would become irrelevant. And Claire would lose out on the job for the simple fact that Jack loved her.

  It was as unfair as it was true.

  Jack didn’t know what to do, only that a line of teenagers looking to strut their stuff stood between him and breaking away to speak to Claire.

  Out of the blue, Tiki sighed into his ear. “Is there anything more beautiful than a person wishing they could hide under a rock?”

  Jack replayed her words, certain he must have misunderstood them. But nope. She’d said what she’d said.

  His first thought was that Claire must be uncomfortable, but when he looked her way, she was talking to Selene and seemed totally fine.

  The fae was talking about someone else.

  “The girl up next?” Tiki whispered, sendi
ng her a pointed look. “First-year illusionist. She threw a fit in the bathroom when she found out a pimpernel was on the panel. She’s embarrassed to do her trick now.”

  “Not my problem,” Jack said, happy to have someone easily dispatched in the queue.

  Tiki cleared her throat. “You could make it your problem.”

  The only problem Jack was interested in making his own was getting Tiki back to her seat. No one expected a fae to have manners, but they wouldn’t be so quick to forgive Jack for conversing while a guest performed.

  “Not interested,” he said through his teeth.

  “You’ll get to talk to Claire sooner,” she teased. “Within minutes, rather than hours.”

  It was exactly what Jack wanted, but there was a reason the age-old saying Beware fae bearing gifts had never died over the years. That was because the fae never did anyone a favor.

  They planted social bombs.

  Sometimes there was a delayed timer on their gifts, to the point that everyone forgot how a whole mess started. But it started with a gift from a fae, and Jack was far too smart to fall for that trick … even though he really wanted to.

  Like an answer to a prayer, Ren appeared in his line of sight. Rather than finding an ally in Ren’s expression, however, Jack saw a repeat of the request Claire had sent him just a few moments ago.

  She wanted to talk.

  So did Jack.

  But he was stuck.

  Jack let Ren see that in his eyes, and the strongman’s silent reply was that he wasn’t returning back to Margot without a better answer.

  Jack saw a flash of flames in his periphery and gave the boy’s trick a cursory glance as several spectators let out oohs of surprise before gloved hands clapped in approval.

  Apparently, the kid was doing pretty well. Good for him.

  “C’mon,” Tiki said, once again in his ear. Maybe she’d never left. “Let me help you.”

  It couldn’t end well, and yet… “What’s the price?”

  “Price?” she echoed, confused.