by Mora Early
The nurse finished attaching the monitors to the bed as an orderly moved around her to unlock the wheels. “Miss,” the nurse said, not unkindly, “we need to take him now.”
Emma nodded, clutching his hand tightly for another brief moment. “I love you, T-rex. Don’t you dare die on me.” She sniffled.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said as they began to wheel him out. “And Ems?”
“What?”
“There’s something in my coat pocket for you. I knew you’d need ‘em. You never fail me, Em.” He waved as they pushed him around the corner. Stifling a hiccupping sob, Emma crossed to his beside table and picked up the dusty, torn coat he’d been wearing when they brought him in. It took her a minute before she located the right pocket.
Her hand closed over a smooth plastic case and she drew it out, already knowing what she’d find.
A contacts case.
Emma chuckled, feeling a sudden burst of optimism. Her brother knew her too well. And he also knew that she’d lose it if anything happened to him. There was no way he’d do that to her. He was going to be fine, and they were going to pull this off. In just one more week, they’d have their father’s watch back.
She unscrewed one white plastic lid and smiled at the brown contact floating in its solution. For the first time since Todd told her about his plan, she felt something other than anxiety when she thought about it. Emma recognized the feeling. She’d experienced it enough times when embroiled in one of her baby brother’s mad plans. That spark and fizzle in her veins was excitement.
There was something different about Emma today, Josh thought as he watched her direct the setup crew. Her normally quiet, even tone was somehow brighter today, bubblier. As if she was constantly on the verge of breaking into laughter. It was in her eyes as well, he noticed. She’d glanced up at him when he came downstairs and found her marshaling the troops to cart the sofas and chairs from his conservatory out to a storage truck, and her eyes sparkled like rare emeralds.
He paused on the bottom step, momentarily stunned by her beauty. He’d noticed she was pretty before, yes, in her own quiet way. But lit up like this, she surpassed merely ‘pretty’. Her smile faltered when she caught his stunned look. He mustered a casual expression as he crossed the room to her.
“Things are starting to come together. I was just in the ballroom with Shinae, and the decorations look fantastic.”
She nodded, dropping her arresting eyes to her ever-present clipboard. He could see a diagram of table placements on top, but she flipped that page over to peruse what looked like a detailed itinerary. “Good. We’re on track then. Once we’ve got these set up,” she indicated the second line of workers, who were now hauling round dinner tables toward the conservatory, “we can begin dressing the rooms down here.”
“What’s left to do tomorrow?” he asked, impressed with the huge transformation Emma and her team had wrought already.
“My team and I will get here around 10 a.m. to do a final walk-through of the game rooms and make sure everything is in place. But I’ll be off before the ball starts. Dag will be coordinating the rest of the staff.”
Josh rubbed a hand against his slightly stubbled jaw. “What if something happens during the ball? Shouldn’t you be here in case any crises arise?”
She flicked an unreadable look at him up through her long lashes. “I have some private family matters to attend to over the next few days. Vince will be overseeing the kitchen and waitstaff. Charlotte is handling the front of the house—the coat check, valets, and footmen. I’ve assigned Ari to the musicians. Should they need anything at all, he’ll arrange it for them. Tanya has the games covered. And Dag can reach me in the event of an emergency. They’re all supremely competent, Joshua. I wouldn’t leave them in charge if I didn’t have complete faith in all of them.”
“I didn’t mean to insinuate. . . .” He trailed off, backtracking over what she’d said. “Wait, we have footmen? What on earth for?”
“Checking invitations and opening doors.” She raised her brows. “You didn’t expect your guests to open their own doors, did you?”
His lips quirked at the dry tone of her voice. “Yes, actually. If I’d thought about it at all, I would have.”
She shook her head. “That’s why you hired Picture Perfect: to think of these little details. Not only will it impress your guests, but it will help keep the flow of foot traffic away from the doorways. Trust me, you’ll be grateful for the footmen.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He grinned.
Emma tucked her pen into her bun. “The rest of the Picture Perfect support staff will be at the office. Think of them as backup if anything goes wrong. Which it won’t,” she assured him. He was about to speak when she spun, catching the sleeve of one of the burly movers. “Wally, make sure they don’t unload all the chairs, please. The ones at the very rear of the truck are going back to Steinem’s.”
Wally nodded. “Are they remainders?”
“We always get a few. But Janice is waiting for them, so if you can run them over to her as soon as you guys are done here, she’ll swap them out for you.” Emma smiled at him and patted his muscled forearm. “Thank you.”
Josh watched her pluck the pen from her bun and mark a check on her clipboard. He chuckled when she slid the writing instrument back into her hairdo. She glanced up at him.
“My mom does that, too.” He gestured toward her bun. “The pen-in-the-hair thing. Sometimes she’ll end up with three or four in there by the end of the day. How do you not feel that?”
She blinked at him for a moment, and then a fleeting smile darted across her lips. “Well, I don’t know about your mother, but my hair is very thick. The pen doesn’t even touch my scalp, so there’s nothing to feel, really. Just a tiny bit of added weight. You know,” she said suddenly, “you need to give me those signed releases for the photographers.”
He frowned slightly at the abrupt shift in topic but motioned her toward the stairs. “Right. They’re in my office.”
Emma bit her lip. Was she nervous to be alone with him? They’d interacted one-on-one plenty of times, but never in a confined space like his office. Not that the room was small, but it was considerably narrower than the great living room or the conference room at Picture Perfect. He watched her straighten her shoulders, apparently shaking off whatever trepidation she was feeling, and turn to climb up the stairs before him.
Josh caught himself staring rather adoringly at her firm backside as she moved in front of him. He yanked his gaze away. If she’d caught that heated look, she’d probably run straight out the front door without her precious releases. He cleared his throat, attempting to distract himself from the delectable sight ahead of him. “So, where will the photographers be?”
“We’ll have several in front of the house to catch the guests as they arrive and enter, as well as a few in each room to mingle among the guests and take candid souvenir shots,” she called over her shoulder.
“I still think that’s kind of off-putting.”
She flashed an amused glance at him. “How many charity functions have you been to?”
Josh paused with one hand on the stair railing, lips pursed in thought. “More than I can count,” he answered. “Why?”
Emma raised a brow. “And have any of them not had photographers snapping pictures the whole time?”
“Oh.” He frowned slightly. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I mostly don’t pay attention to them.”
“And neither will your guests. What’s the point of giving to charity if people don’t see you doing it?” she asked. There was an edge to her voice that suggested this was perhaps something a client had said to her.
Josh chuckled at the statement. He was sure a good portion of his fellow philanthropists felt exactly that way. “I suppose you’re right.”
At the top of the stairs, he ushered her toward his office, noting that her back had gone stiff. He made a point to leave the office door open as they stepped i
nside.
“I wanted to thank you again, Emma,” he said, hoping to put her at ease as he shuffled through the papers on his desk for the photo releases, “for helping make this whole endeavor run really smoothly. I don’t mind telling you, given my inexperience, when Martin first suggested a party planner . . . I had some nightmare visions. But you’ve made the process really pleasant, and I appreciate that.” He glanced up at her.
She was standing on the other side of his desk, spine ramrod straight, her hands clasped behind her back like a shy schoolgirl. Her head was down, eyes apparently locked on the surface of his desk. He couldn’t read the look in them through her down-swept lashes.
“I was just doing my job,” she said, the quiet tone returning. “But I’m glad you’re pleased. Clarice will be delighted to hear you’re happy with your Picture Perfect experience.”
He handed her the release forms, trying not to frown at her subdued demeanor. He liked the sparkling, bubbly Emma much better. But he doubted she’d appreciate him commenting on her behavior change. If she was nervous about being alone with him, it would only make the situation worse. Instead, he smiled. “I’ll be sure to tell her, then. You will definitely be getting more of my business in the future.”
Emma nodded, clutching the papers. “I should get back downstairs to make sure those tables are being placed correctly.”
“Do what you’ve got to do.” Josh bit back a small grin. He couldn’t deny that he felt a small thrill of masculine satisfaction knowing she was affected by his closeness. As she turned on her heel and hurried from the room, he found himself once again contemplating asking her out after the ball was over. Some part of him couldn’t help but think that if he could get Emma away from the mantle of her job, he’d see more of the effervescent personality he’d only caught glimpses of so far.
And Josh really liked the idea of that. One more day, he thought. Then he could nab William Ransler’s signature on the dotted line of a contract and score a date with an intriguing woman all at once. His week was shaping up to be pretty fine.
Chapter 9
“Holy moly, Ems. You look amazing.” Todd gaped at her, green eyes wide. Emma spun around in surprise, feeling the luxurious swish of the fabric around her legs, and clapped a hand to her throat, where her heart now resided.
“You should be resting.” She’d only picked him up from the hospital a few hours ago. His surgery had gone well, or so the doctor said. Now he just needed to rest and recover. She, on the other hand, had a ball to attend.
Todd sat gingerly on the end of her bed with a wince. “I am resting. It doesn’t take any energy to compliment my big sister.”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes. But she smoothed her palms over the silky fabric at her stomach. The double-sided tape she’d used was supposed to be professional grade, but she was still nervous that it would give way at a critical moment. A lot of her bare skin was already on display—legs, arms, back, cleavage—so she didn’t want to hit any extra levels of indecency. “It looks okay?”
“Better than okay. Especially with the new hair.”
Emma touched her fingertips to the elaborately coiled updo. She’d taken the precaution of going to a hairdresser several towns over, just in case anyone thought to ask around about her, post-theft. The girl had gone above and beyond the call of duty. Not only was Emma sporting a style that would be the talk of any Red Carpet Event, but the stylist had dyed her long, straight locks a deep, shimmery black. The temporary color would wash out within a few days, but that was all Emma needed.
She bent to reach for a pair of slender, black stiletto heels. The tape held firm, and neither nipple made an impromptu appearance. She breathed a sigh of relief as she slipped into the dangerous-looking shoes. “Do you really think I can pull this off?”
“Of course I do. And so do you. Now, get your mask on.” Todd grinned, and she could sense his excitement. Her own heart was pounding, too, like it had been since this morning. Her hands had trembled so badly she almost couldn’t paint her toes and fingers in a bright poppy red. But it wasn’t nerves. Todd was right. Emma had to admit she was just as excited as her brother. Maybe more. It had always been this way—when she broke him out of that stupid summer camp or convinced his friends she’d been jilted at the altar. Playing the roles he thought up was fun. And harmless, she told herself. A small part of her argued that Josh might not agree with her assessment, but honestly, what was one old watch to a Hollywood mega-producer?
“Hold on. I need to do the contacts first.” She’d practiced putting them in and taking them out a dozen times since Todd had given them to her. It still felt a little odd, having to touch the slippery surface of her own eyeball, but she found she could do it with ease. She did so now, blinking her eyes to situate the contacts and watching her green irises turn suddenly brown. Finally, she affixed some more skin adhesive to the mask’s edges and pressed it into place.
As the picture on the website indicated, only a small portion of her forehead, cheeks, and chin remained uncovered by the black lace butterfly with its red satin underpinning. She turned back to Todd, grinning. “Well?”
Her little brother inspected her from head to toe, brows rising high on his wide forehead. “I watched the transformation myself, and I’m still having trouble believing it’s you.”
Emma’s lips curved upward in a pleased smile. “That’s just the pain medication talking. But it’ll have to do, I guess.” She knew it would. In her gut, she just knew it. Even if he did somehow catch a glimpse of her across the crowded ballroom, there was no way Joshua Owens would recognize her as the deferential woman who’d planned his soiree.
“Walk me through it again.” Todd watched her affix the large, chandelier earrings and smiled as she clipped their great-grandmother’s rubies around her throat. The necklace complemented the outfit perfectly.
She fluttered long lashes at him in the mirror. “I’m going to go in—”
“With your fake invitation,” he interrupted.
“With my fake invitation,” Emma continued. “First, I’ll locate Joshua. As soon as he’s downstairs, as far from the office as possible, I head upstairs, sneak in, grab the watch and skedaddle.”
Todd frowned, eyes a little glassy. “I thought you said the doors were going to be locked?”
Damn it, she hadn’t meant to tell Todd that. But she’d been distraught about his surgery and rambling at his bedside before he woke up. She didn’t realize he’d heard it all. She laughed it off. “Why would he bother? It’s not as if he can’t afford twenty replacements if anything gets stolen. We’d really be up the creek if he did, wouldn’t we?” Thank goodness Todd was still fuzzy from his meds, because she didn’t at all want to explain to her little brother how she really planned to get inside that office.
She hadn’t even realized she’d been considering it, as she waited for Todd to get out of surgery, until the solution popped into her head. Josh said the hallway doors would all be locked. But the hallway door was not the only one that led into his office. She knew, from looking at the blueprints, that there was one other entrance.
Through Joshua Owens’ bedroom.
Of course, the hallway door to that would no doubt be locked as well. But if she could convince him to open it. . . . Seducing the gorgeous billionaire was the only way to get the watch back. Partially seducing, she corrected. She just had to get Josh to think she wanted to get him in bed, so he’d take her to said bed. Once inside his room, she would find some excuse to be alone for a minute and slip away into the office. She’d be gone before he knew it and he’d never be the wiser as to her identity.
“Hey, what about the hair?” Todd asked suddenly. Emma blinked, sliding a sleek metal cuff onto her wrist.
“What about it?”
Todd flapped a hand at her, his pain meds clearly in full gear if the dazed look on his face was any indication. “Won’t Owens notice it’s a different color next time he sees you? Even a guy will spot a thing like that!�
�� His green eyes went wide in alarm. Emma just shook her head.
“We went over this, remember? It washes out in a few days, and I took some time off from work, now that the ball is completed, to care for my recently injured bonehead brother. By the time I have to see Josh again for the post-event follow-up, my hair will be back to normal. And I think you need to lie down.”
“Did you just call me a bonehead?” Todd’s brows lowered until they almost touched his nose, but the intimidating frown was somewhat compromised by the SpongeBob pajamas he was wearing.
“I did,” she said. “And you are. Now, lie down on my bed and rest. I have to get going if I’m going to make it to my pick-up point in time.” She felt a small shiver at the clandestine sound of the words. She’d hired a driver from a limo service Picture Perfect didn’t use and arranged for a car to meet her at a location outside of town, so she could arrive at the ball in a style similar to the other guests.