by It Girls
The bitch stood front row, center. Chloe smiled at her.
"Last night," Renee said, "two of the Roses were at Hollow Hill. Princess Chloe St. John and Miss Emma Bosworth and, yes, they were photographed there." Renee smiled at the cluster of faces, eagerly awaiting her every word. "These two women are renowned in this city for their dedicated service to charity. As those of you who will be joining us for the date auction tonight at 8:00 in Perrini's Grande Ballroom already know, the members of Gotham Rose Club are dedicated to helping women who are struggling, including those trying to hold together life and limb and have nothing left with which to barter except their bodies. To understand those challenges and provide assistance to these women, we must closely examine them in their lives. That is what Princess Chloe and Miss Emma Bosworth were doing last night at Hollow Hill. I do hope to see many of you at the fund-raiser tonight— or at the Halloween Ball. Thank you."
Renee stepped back from the microphone, and the shouted questions started in earnest. Most of them were about Marcus and directed at Chloe. Chloe and Emma stuck strictly to the script, which frustrated the press.
"Come on, Princess. Tell us what happened."
Chloe stared down at the ground for a long moment, substituting in her mind Jack's betrayal for Marcus's. "I lost my fiancé," she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Forever."
"That's enough." Olivia cut off questions. "I'm sure you understand that Princess Chloe needs privacy to grieve."
Renee slid an arm around Chloe and led her back inside.
Olivia shut the door then turned a worried gaze on Renee. "You need to call the Governess as soon as you possibly can."
When the hallway cleared, Chloe stepped near the fire, trying to let her nerves untangle and her heart rate slow down.
Emma joined her, then looked around to make sure no one was within hearing distance. "Something's wrong, Chloe."
"What do you mean?" She whispered because Emma had, though there wasn't another person in sight.
"Renee called off the mission too easily with us being this close to the Duke." Emma held up her fingers, pinched them together. "That's a big warning that something is way off."
"Whatever it is, it isn't our problem anymore." True, but Renee ordering them to wear red wigs when the missing women were brunettes still didn't sit well with Chloe. For some reason, Renee didn't want them inside that operation. "Regardless, she's shut down the assignment. We're done, Emma."
"And don't you find that odd when just yesterday she dumped every guilt trip known to woman and beast to get us to take on the assignment? Now today she's pulling the plug?"
"A lot's happened. Rubi blew our covers. Renee has to protect the G.R.C. so the Rose agents can continue to function."
Emma warmed her hands at the fire. "I'm not backing off."
"Emma, the assignment is over." Fear swirled in Chloe's stomach. "You have your orders. You have no choice."
Emma slowly turned her head and looked Chloe right in the eye. "I always have a choice."
Chloe's stomach sank. "Aren't you afraid?"
"Terrified. But I'm not backing off, knowing he's selling women, Chloe. I became a Rose agent to stop crime. I'm not turning a blind eye to it. I can't."
Chloe prayed for divine intervention to get Emma to come to her senses and stay safe. She prayed for the FBI to rescue the missing Russian women. And then she prayed for herself, because she was such a coward she'd settle for anyone fixing this, so long as it didn't have to be her.
"Those three women are still out there, Chloe. They're still being exported and sold. And there have to be others."
There it was. The truth in bald light. No shadows and nowhere to hide and not see it. "You're going after them."
"Damn right."
"I realize it won't do a bit of good to object, but this isn't a smart move, Emma."
"Maybe not," she said, then thought again. "Okay, it's not a smart move, but it's the right move. And the one I'm making."
She was right. And no amount of debate would change that. "Damn it, I have to go with you."
"No, you don't. Not if you're opposed."
Chloe laid a glare on Emma meant to drop her to her knees. "You're my friend and my partner— even when you're suicidal. I can't leave your back wide open. Someone else could kill you."
Emma turned dead earnest. "Someone might kill us both."
Fear ricocheted through Chloe's heart and its bitterness coated her tongue. She willed Emma to change her mind, but she was too hardheaded to do it.
"The odds are in their favor." Chloe stared into Emma's eyes a long, unblinking moment.
If she didn't do this, she wouldn't ever again in her life be able to meet her own eyes in the mirror. Emma had acknowledged that, while Chloe had tried to ignore it out of fear. But even fear didn't alter the truth. "Damn right."
*
Chloe rode down 72nd Street to Central Park West, then south to Perrini's, the place in the city for ultra-glamorous black-tie affairs.
Normally, booking the Grande Ballroom required a minimum two-year notice as well as a sum affordable only to the very rich, but when Chloe had been in her "building her companies" phase, Lucas Perrini had fallen on hard times, as had so many business owners after the 9/11 crisis. He was a proud man, old school, and would never borrow or ask anyone for money. And he was smart. Very, very smart.
Seeing all of his assets, Chloe had gone to him. But she hadn't offered to lend him money— he surely would have refused. Instead, she bent his sixty-year-old ear about her wanting to do something worthy with her life and needing a mentor to guide her. Being the consummate chivalrous gentleman, as well as a damn smart businessman, Lucas had agreed to assist the fair Princess Chloe by taking her money and making her a silent partner he could teach to do business wisely.
Both were far richer for it.
Of course, Chloe got preferential treatment at Perrini's, which impressed even Renee, and having a vested interest, of course Chloe booked events there at every opportunity. It was guerilla-warfare marketing, learned from Lucas Perrini, after learning Smart Business 101 at the knee of Renee Dalton-Sinclair.
"How much longer, Frank?" Chloe freshened her lipstick, the same shade of bold red as her slinky Vera Wang.
"Line's moving pretty slow," he said from the driver's seat. "We're only three back now, though."
Chloe adjusted her tiara. "Is this sucker straight?" She hated wearing it, but her parents would be here, and so she deferred to please her mother. Why Chloe bothered, she had no idea, and she was in no mood to think about it now.
Frank cranked his neck to look back through the lowered glass. "It's straight." His eyes warmed. "You're a pretty princess, Chloe." Frank inched the limo up. "Harrison's eyes are gonna bug right out of his head when he sees you."
"How do you know Harrison will be here?" Her heart beat faster. He hadn't mentioned coming tonight. Of course, they hadn't talked. They'd kissed, he'd stared at her and then left without a word.
"I met him in the garage this morning when he left. He mentioned it." Frank eased the car closer to the curb. "Your turn." Again, he looked back. "Have fun— and ignore your mother. She can't help it if she's goofy."
Leave it to Frank to put everything in his own unique perspective. "I will. You stay warm."
"Princess, if Jack's here, you might hear what he has to say. He did trust you about being engaged to Marcus. That's worth remembering."
He had. She hadn't explained that the engagement had been a survival measure forced on her. And Jack had trusted her, cared for her, even acted lovingly toward her.
Then, he'd broken her heart.
"I tried giving him a chance to explain, Frank. He didn't."
"Maybe he couldn't."
"He's a reporter, not a secret agent. What could possibly keep him from telling me the truth?"
"Well, now. I'd say that's a good question. I can't answer it. But before you give him the boot and take up with that Harrison fell
ow, maybe you should."
"Maybe." Her car door opened and Chloe stepped out.
Lucas Perrini greeted her, wearing black tails and a broad smile. "Princess Chloe." He looped her arm through his and moved to the door. "You're too beautiful to arrive alone."
Chloe smiled, loving this man who was as blunt as Frank and thought it was high time Chloe married some nice Italian man and settled down. "I'm looking for a man exactly like you," she said. "He's hard to find."
"You can do far better than me, my dear." He patted her arm and delivered her to the grand ballroom.
She kissed his soft cheek. "There is no one better than you, Lucas."
"Oh, but that I were thirty years younger." He let out a sigh. "However, I did meet with your new young man today, and he's good. Not Italian, but otherwise, he's good."
Fear trickled through her. "Whom are you talking about?"
"Harrison Howell." He looked at Chloe as if shocked she had to ask, and then suspicion filled his eyes. "Did this man lie to me? He said he was to watch over you and insisted on checking the security here."
"Oh, no. He didn't lie." She covered for him but wondered what he'd been doing. "He's worried. I got a few nasty notes."
"That idiot Rubi and her silly column." Lucas's expression turned to stone, but his voice stayed soft and he absently patted her arm. "Say the word and I will ban her."
"No. No, thank you. It'd just make her worse."
"As you wish." He dropped his voice. "If you need protection, you need only let me know. I have friends who would be honored to protect you."
"Oh, no," she said, unsure she wanted to get involved with those friends. "These are just the usual threats."
He nodded. "If you need anything, I'll be here for you."
"Thank you." She pressed a second kiss to his cheek, then walked into the ballroom. The first person to greet her was Ryan Greene. Tatiana had dated him, too.
"Chloe, you look— " he paused and his gaze drifted down her body "— amazing."
The silky red fabric clinging to her curves heated. "Thank you, Ryan." She looked past him to the two men with him, recognizing the elder as his father, though they'd never formally met. The other man, in a wheelchair, she had never before seen.
Ryan handled the introductions. "May I present Princess Chloe?" He smiled. "Chloe, this is my father, Franklin Greene, and my brother, Julio."
She greeted them warmly, wondering how Julio, who looked Latino, had become part of Ryan's family. Both of his legs and his left hand lay useless. How difficult it must be to live restricted inside a body that wouldn't work for you. Imagining it put an ache for him in Chloe's heart, but after they'd talked for a few minutes, Julio's charisma was so strong, she forgot that he had physical limitations— and she bet that was an enormous asset to him in his practice of international law.
Chloe moved on and checked in with Renee.
Renee cut her gaze to Franklin and Julio and visibly tensed. "Everything is in order. Senator Richardson and Mayor Siegal have arrived," Renee said. "The auctioneer is here, too, and he's set to start the date auction promptly at 9:00."
"Good." What was wrong with Renee? "Are you okay?"
Her gaze went again to Julio, and she didn't answer.
Chloe moved to block her vision. "Do you know him?"
"Yes," she said, drawing in a sharp breath and turning her gaze to Chloe. "I don't wish to discuss it, darling. That was a sad time and this is a happy one. Let's enjoy it."
"All right." Chloe agreed, but she'd never seen Renee ill at ease, and it rattled Chloe in a way she hadn't realized it could. Why did seeing this man affect Renee so deeply?
The mayor stepped up to the podium and made a few opening jokes. "My daughter Leah is one of the Roses being auctioned off tonight." His voice turned stern. "Remember, men. All we're auctioning is dinner."
The crowd laughed as it was supposed to, and the mayor went on. "Of course, I have to thank Renee Dalton-Sinclair for the charitable efforts of the Gotham Rose Club, and Princess Chloe, New York's own royal Rose, who sponsored this event. Ladies, your dedication to making life better for the women in this city is admirable, and the City of New York is grateful."
After a polite round of applause, the mayor introduced Renee's oldest friend, Senator Ellie Richardson, who gave a brief but moving speech about domestic violence and crimes against women that ended with, "We've come a long way, but we have a long way yet to go. So, please, be generous tonight."
More applause and laughter, and the auctioneer began auctioning dinners with the Roses. Chloe glanced around the crowded ballroom, hoping for a glimpse of Harrison, but didn't see him. She did, however, spot Erik talking with Julio and Ryan, and then a fair distance away, her mother, who was deep in conversation with the mayor's wife.
Someone touched her on the shoulder.
Chloe turned around, saw Harrison and smiled. He had been gorgeous in his Brooks Brothers suit, but in a Hugo Boss tux, he was breathtaking. "Hi." Her voice didn't want to work.
He smiled, stared at her mouth. "Hello, Chloe."
"Lucas told me you were here." Damn it, she sounded like a kid. What the hell was wrong with her?
Harrison nodded. "You look beautiful."
"So do you."
He chuckled. "Was this date auction your idea?"
She nodded, though after learning that other women were really being sold into slavery, what had seemed like a fun idea had lost its enchanting gleam. "It's a good way to meet new people." God, that sounded lame, even to her.
"Chelsea Adair," the auctioneer said.
Chloe turned to watch. Chelsea stepped forward on the stage, looking gorgeous in a shocking purple Narciso Rodriguez creation. She pivoted and her black hair floated down her bare back. "I want to see who wins her," Chloe whispered to Harrison. "Erik's had a thing for her for a couple months."
"Five thousand dollars," Erik shouted.
"Ten." Ryan one-upped him.
"Fifteen," Erik fired back.
"That's a lot of money for the pleasure of a woman's company for dinner," Harrison whispered to Chloe.
"It's all relative," she said. "And for charity." Erik got Chelsea for $15,000, and they both positively glowed.
"True." Harrison watched as Ashley Thompson was auctioned off to the eldest son of a fast-food dynasty.
Glenda Huntsberger was next in line, signaling she was single again, and available.
Porsche Rothschild sidled up to Chloe, her infamous pet ferret, Marlena, dangling mischievously from one arm. "If she convinces her buyer she's a virgin, I'm going to permanently give up on all men."
Harrison lifted a questioning brow at Chloe.
"Don't ask," she whispered.
Brit Carouthers bid on Glenda. "Seven thousand."
"He's gorgeous," Porsche whispered.
"Don't even think about it, Bug," Emma said, joining them in a crème silk Chanel.
"You know I'm just looking. He can't compete with Sam," she said of the handsome man she met on her first mission, guarding a movie star in California. Porsche had only recently become a Rose agent. She frowned at Emma. "Who is he?"
"Brit Carouthers." Emma lowered her voice. "He's a publishing heir with a gambling habit and a racy lifestyle."
"Monaco has its perks," Porsche insisted. "And what's wrong with a racy lifestyle?" Absently she stroked Marlena.
Emma frowned. "Ask Vanessa," she said, talking about Vanessa Dawson, a sister Rose who'd recently had a run-in with Caulfield Carouthers in Florida on the drug-mule case.
"Well, look," Samantha said, joining them. "He's friends with Ryan."
"So is half the world," Emma said, totally out of patience. "Listen," she dropped her voice lower still, assuring that only Porsche and Samantha could hear her. "Vanessa thinks he's seriously bad."
"Silly woman." Porsche wiggled her eyebrows. "Don't you know bad can be delicious?"
"Or deadly," Emma said dryly.
"Deadly?" That got Samantha's
attention.
"He just tried to buy his brother's way out of trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Drugs, suspicion of murder, attempted murder, blackmail."
"No way." Porsche didn't believe it. "And he's here?"
"Way. A witness and evidence disappeared. The D.A. had to reduce several of the charges."
"Wow," Samantha said. "That's a lot to lose, you know?"
"Exactly."
"What a waste." Samantha grunted. "He lost the bid, too."
The insufficient evidence portion of that conversation was privileged, and them having it in Perrini's Grande Ballroom had Harrison's jaw tight enough to crack. Chloe shushed them.
"Are you being auctioned?" Harrison asked Chloe.
"Yes, I am."
"I'm on duty or I'd buy you."
"Bid on me," she corrected him. "For dinner."
"That's all that's being sold?" He gave her a smile so seductive it melted her down to her toes.
"You're next, Chloe." Renee's assistant Olivia tapped her on the shoulder, then turned to Emma. "Have you seen Alexa?"
"She's over there." Emma nodded to where Julio Greene was seated in his wheelchair.
Alexa Cheltingham, a Rose who'd been with the agency for four years, stood next to Julio, chatting. She'd lost her right leg as a teen, and Chloe had had no idea until Alexa had taken on a mission that had required her to go undercover as a stable hand. It had been hell on Alexa, but she'd done it, and finally she'd opened up to the other Roses about her leg. Chloe admired Alexa all the more for the extra effort it took for her to do her work in the agency. With her attitude and Julio's charisma, they'd be quite the couple. Of course, Alexa was pretty well taken now, by Ross Hardel of Hardel Industries.
Chloe stepped onto the stage and saw Madison Taylor-Pruitt with the love of her life, John, plus her father and her newly recovered uncle William, who'd been kidnapped as a child and only recently had found his family again. She positively glowed. Love and happiness looked good on her— and released a longing ache for both in Chloe.
"Princess Chloe St. John," the auctioneer said.
Chloe's stomach fluttered. What if no one bid on her? What if someone did, and he turned out to be a jerk she couldn't stand?