Done With Love

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Done With Love Page 22

by Niecey Roy


  Even though this plan was all my idea, I was a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. Knowing what I had to do didn’t make it easier. We were about to commit a crime, and I’d never done anything illegal before. I wouldn’t let her ruin my parents, though. The fact she would do it without a moment’s hesitation, as she’d threatened, made the risk worthwhile. Tonight, I would steal my life back from her just as she’d stolen it from me—she wouldn’t even know what hit her. The bitch is going down.

  Roxanna didn’t appear nervous at all, but if she was, she was a lot better hiding her emotions than I. True, Roxanna was one for the dramatics, but when it came to keeping things bottled up, the woman was a pro. She let people see what she wanted them to see. Tonight, she looked confident, and I was taking my queue from her. Or trying to. She was more schooled in espionage than I, what with all the shows she watched. Me, I was winging it and hoping I would nail it, or else this would all be for nothing.

  We were disguised in beautiful gowns, complete with bejeweled masks covering most of our faces, our hair curled and arranged around our heads and down our backs to mask our earpieces and the wires taped under our gowns. Roxanna’s gown was black with a beaded bodice and ruffled satin skirt, while mine was a shimmering white satin covered in sparkling tulle. We were dressed for our roles. I needed to make sure I didn’t bomb my part and ruin everything.

  Roxanna’s home office had become operation headquarters, as she’d called it. We met for a week, when Leo wasn’t home, and locked the door to her office when our meetings were over. He had no clue what we were up to. If I could trust that he’d let me go through with this, I would have told him. I couldn’t risk him interfering. This is the only option.

  Operation Evil Queen Takedown was officially a go. I straightened in my seat, channeling confidence. Simple—in and out.

  I wasn’t sure how Roxanna had managed to get her name on the guest list with a plus-one. More than likely it had something to do with Kristina Kosmicki’s background check. I didn’t ask for details. Some things were better left to the imagination. We had a way in, which was the most important thing.

  The heater was cranked up in the back of the limousine, but I shivered in my wrap. My palms sweated inside my white satin gloves and I repeated to myself: This is to save the boutique. This is to save the boutique. We’d covered all our bases. I was intimately familiar with this event because I’d attended on Jeremy’s arm two years in a row. There was no way Deborah would find out we were inside. With our masks on, we’d blend in with everyone else. While she was on the other side of the mansion entertaining her guests, we’d be searching her office.

  “The Eagle has landed,” Richard said into my ear, and Roxanna and I jerked in unison. “I repeat, the Eagle has landed.”

  “Damn it, Richard,” Roxanna whispered behind a black satin glove. “You scared the crap out of me!”

  He chortled, a-hu-a-hu-a-hu. “Sorry, Nighthawk. Just making sure the equipment worked.”

  “You’re back by the servant’s entrance already?” I whispered. Everything was going along without a hitch, as planned. I shouldn’t be so nervous.

  If the driver looked into his rearview mirror, he would see two costumed women whispering, perhaps excited about the ball they’d been invited to. I shifted closer to Roxanna, scared our voices would carry and we’d be found out. Not like he’d have any clue what we were talking about. We sounded crazy, even to my own ears. Our plan was outrageous, and if we pulled it off, genius.

  Even Richard was tucked into a stylish tux and wore a half mask over his face. If someone knocked on the van’s door, he would be posing as a news reporter for the college. He’d pretend to be eager for an interview with Gerard Buchanan, a man who continued the Buchanan family tradition of large donations to the college.

  “10–4, Snow Bird. I’m stationed at the side of the house, ready for action.” He sucked in a breath that could be heard through the earpiece.

  Before he could continue, Roxanna said, “Okay, we’re approaching the front steps. We’ll be inside soon.”

  “10–4, Nighthawk.” After a moment of silence, he said, “Hey, you broads there?”

  “Yes,” we said in unison, our whispers strained.

  Richard answered with laughter.

  The limousine eased to a stop in front of the mansion. I grasped Roxanna’s hand as the driver stepped out and shut the driver’s door behind him.

  “Okay, I’m kind of freaking out a little bit,” I whispered.

  “No panic attacks allowed,” Roxanna whispered, her stare intense from behind her mask.

  I opened my mouth to reply, but the door beside Roxanna opened. The cold swept in as the driver held the door open. In and out, in and out, I repeated to myself.

  “Lights, camera, action!” Richard said into my ear.

  Roxanna jerked as she scooted to step out of the limousine and hit her head on the top of the doorframe. “Ouch,” she moaned and touched the top of her head.

  “Easy, Miss,” the driver said, reaching for her gloved hand to help her out.

  “What happened? Everything okay?” Richard asked.

  “No more talking, Richard. It’s dangerous,” I whispered to him as I scooted along the black leather seat to the door. The driver reached his hand in and I grasped it, easing out to stand on the driveway. My body tensed for another outburst from Richard. He kept silent, though, and I made it out without injuring myself.

  Roxanna and I stood on the red velvet carpet leading up to the stairs and across the porch to the double oak doors opened wide for the guests.

  “We are really doing this,” Roxanna whispered.

  The limousine had already driven away and the next car in line parked in its place. I tugged on her hand to keep her moving. If she lost her nerve, I’d never make it through the night.

  “Invitation, miss,” the doorman said.

  Roxanna flipped open the clasp to her black satin clutch to pull out her invitation. The doorman held out his hand, and she placed the invitation in it. We waited while he skimmed it, then nodded for us to step inside.

  We stood in the entryway; a crystal chandelier twinkled from the ceiling above us. The double staircase with its oak banister curved along the wall up to the second floor landing. Standing at the top looking down upon the guests was the evil queen herself, dressed in a black ball gown. Peacock feathers shimmered from her tightly pinned coiffure.

  “What if she recognizes us?” I turned my back on Deborah to stare at Roxanna with wide eyes.

  “She won’t. We’re in costume. We look just like everyone else.” She glanced over my shoulder. “Don’t turn around. She’s coming down the stairs. We’ll wait until she’s out of the room.”

  “Okay,” I whispered. After a few moments of us standing awkwardly in place, I asked, “Is she gone?”

  “Yeah. Let’s get a drink to take with us. I’m sweating like a pig in this dress,” Roxanna said.

  I nodded toward the room off to our right, and she followed. Last year the east side of the house had been cordoned off to guests. I only hoped the same could be said for this year so we could slip into her office and search for the contract without interruption.

  Roxanna made a straight line for the champagne table, and I followed right behind. Most of the men and women wore masks, but some of the women opted for masks on black or silver wands and were lax in covering their faces. There’d been a canister on the entry way table holding masks for guests who didn’t have their own.

  Roxanna handed me a glass of champagne. Laughter and music drifted to us from the ballroom down the hall. We were quiet as we observed the guests, and watched for Deborah. She must have joined the guests in the dance hall.

  “You broads mind if I play some Zombie Attack 5?”

  “Those games are going to rot your brain,” Roxanna said, forgetting to whisper. A woman standing to the right of us lowered her mask just a smidge to peer at Roxanna over the top, her auburn brows raised in haughty
regard. The pearls at her neck looked too heavy for her thin frame. Roxanna shrugged at her. “Eavesdropping will rot your brain, too.” The woman gasped and turned her back to us, and Roxanna said, “Touché.”

  “Is that a yes?” Richard asked.

  “Fine. Play your games, Richard,” Roxanna said. This time, the nosy woman’s date, a salt and pepper haired main in a half-mask, peered with interest at Roxanna.

  I turned my back on the couple and whispered, “Richard, you’re making us look crazy. You need to stop talking.”

  “And if for some reason you get distracted by Zombie Attack ridiculousness and something goes wrong, I will strangle you,” Roxanna warned. “And then I will go to your parents’ basement and destroy all of your electronics.”

  Richard whistled. “You are one angry broad.”

  Roxanna’s jaw flexed. She rubbed her temples while I pinched my lips together to hold back laughter.

  “Richard, you shouldn’t call women ‘broads’,” I said.

  “Why not?” He sounded genuinely confused. “I call ’em broads all the time.”

  “Which is probably one of the reasons you no longer have a girlfriend,” Roxanna pointed out before draining the rest of her champagne.

  “Chicks be crazy,” Richard mumbled. “You know, Britney was a pretty cool broad until I missed dinner with her parents.”

  “Gen told me all about it,” Roxanna said. “And you missed the first dinner to meet her parents for the first time because you were playing video games.”

  “Hey, it’s not like that. It was a tournament,” Richard said.

  “After rescheduling five times,” Roxanna reminded him. “Five. Times.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t see what the big deal was either.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “I have no idea how you two lasted as long as you did.”

  “My buddies think she’s a drama queen,” Richard said.

  I winced. “You didn’t tell her that, did you?”

  “Yeah. She slapped me.”

  Roxanna laughed. “Good girl.”

  “Hey.” He sounded wounded.

  “Please tell me you didn’t call her a ‘broad’ in the same conversation,” I said.

  “Uh, maybe…”

  “Oh my gosh, don’t look,” Roxanna said, her grip on my arm startled me. “I spotted Jeremy.”

  “Damn it, he’s not close, is he?”

  “No, just walking through to the hallway.” Then she added, “With some bimbo.”

  My head whipped around to scan the room, but Roxanna moved around me to block my view. “I said not to look. She’s pretty.”

  “I don’t care if she’s pretty, I just want to see who he’s with.”

  Her gaze narrowed from behind her mask. “Are you jealous?”

  “Broads be crazy.”

  I ignored him. “Roxanna Leigh Moss, that’s insulting.”

  “It’s a simple question, Alexis Anne Gorecki,” she countered.

  “No, I am not jealous,” I enunciated. When her stare grew more intense, I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious. He wanted me to be his secret tramp—I’m not exactly all warm and fuzzy inside for him.”

  “Good. Because you’re dating my cousin now.”

  “I know this,” I huffed, and Roxanna stepped out of my line of vision.

  It only took a moment to spot Jeremy stepping from the room and into the hallway with some tiny thing in a burgundy ball gown. She didn’t wear a mask, and neither did he. It was the same girl he’d been dating when he met me for dinner—she must have taken him back after what Deborah called “his moment of weakness.” I assumed they were both without masks because they wanted to be seen, or because their parents wanted them to be seen. He looked happy.

  And I didn’t care. There was no stab of jealousy. No longing. No wishful thinking of what-might-have-been. All I felt was relief I wasn’t on his arm. Invigorated by this absolution, I whirled to face Roxanna.

  “I hope they make snotty-faced babies together who talk back to Deborah her entire life. Now let’s do this.” I grabbed her hand and tugged her in the direction of Deborah’s office.

  “There’re too many people here,” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth as we passed an elderly couple in masks.

  “There’s a powder room around the corner, no one will think twice about us going in that direction, and then we’ll slip through the study to the hallway on the other side of the house. It’s fine,” I assured her.

  With every step we took, the sound of laughter and music faded. Neither of us spoke, moving quietly across the carpet in the study, and then tiptoed down the hall, all the way to Deborah’s office. Turning the handle on the door, I looked over my shoulder to Roxanna who nodded—we were alone in the hallway. I nudged the door open and pulled her inside. I shut the door behind us and exhaled a heavy sigh. We’d made it. I felt along the wall for the light switch. I flipped it up and the room flooded with the soft glow of the covered lamp hanging from the ceiling.

  The room was twice the size of my living room and decorated in rich, warm colors and expensive furniture. Above the unlit fireplace hung an oil painting of the Buchanans. Their smiles reminded me of a jack-o-lantern.

  “Creepy,” Roxanna muttered, her gaze fixed on the painting. “I can’t believe you were going to marry that guy.”

  “I know. You and Gen did a poor job of talking me out of it.”

  She raised her brows. “Mm-hm.”

  I nudged her toward the ornate oak desk on the opposite side of the room. “Come on, we need to hurry so we can get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”

  “Wish you would have let me come inside,” Richard said in my ear, and I almost missed a step walking across the room. For a moment, I’d forgotten he was out in the van, listening.

  Sucking in a breath, I said, “Jeez, Richard! I almost peed my pants—er, dress.”

  “Oops, sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” I opened the top drawer on the left side of the desk and shuffled through the papers.

  “You think she’d keep it in her desk?” Roxanna searched the drawers on the right side of the desk.

  “I have no clue. She said she looks at it all the time, so I’m sure it’s in this desk somewhere.” I opened the second drawer down and dug through stationary. “Find anything?”

  “No.” She opened another drawer. “You go through the desk. I’ll go through the cabinets.” She turned around to the hutch behind us and opened a glass-faced cabinet.

  “Holy shit!” Richard screeched in my ear, and I froze. “Someone’s coming!”

  “Oh my God.” My heart hammered in my chest. We’d been caught. “Richard?”

  “What the fuck?” Roxanna breathed, her gaze wild as it skittered to the door, as if the cops would burst in at any second.

  “Someone’s outside,” Richard whispered.

  “Outside?” I clutched at my chest.

  “The van. Someone’s outside the freakin’ van.”

  We’d go to jail for trespassing. And attempted robbery. My armpits were as clammy as my hands. Yanking my gloves off, I said, “Richard, you have to go to Plan B. We can’t let the equipment get discovered. Grab your notebook and digital recorder and get out of the van.”

  The digital recorder and notebook was so he’d look like an actual reporter.

  “Right. Yeah. Inside.” He chuckled hysterically, and I winced.

  “Richard, if you don’t follow the plan, Roxanna will strangle you—”

  “I will strangle you,” Roxanna agreed, her voice strained.

  “—so get out and tell whoever is out there that you’re with the college paper, here to interview Gerard Buchanan. Do it.”

  “Okay. Yeah. Right.”

  And then there was silence. I expelled a deep breath and leaned against the wall. Pressing my eyes shut, I prayed Richard wouldn’t look as guilty as he sounded to whoever nosed around outside by the van. Hopefully it would be nothing. Hopefully he hadn’
t been caught and we wouldn’t leave the mansion in the back of a police car. I didn’t have time to stress about it because the door opened, and there stood Deborah, her teeth bared in a satisfied grin.

  “Holy fucking shit,” Roxanna whispered, and my hands went numb.

  “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise.” Deborah stepped inside and shut the door behind her. “I knew you were up to something.”

  “How could you possibly know?” I asked. Not only was she evil, she was also psychic. I swear, karma hated me.

  “I saw Roxanna’s name on the guest list just now.” She placed her hands on the hips of her ball gown. “I certainly didn’t put it there. I had a hunch you’d be sneaking around.”

  I glared at her. “Why don’t we just cut to the chase?”

  “And what is the ‘chase’, Alexis?” Her tone brimmed with amusement. “Did you come here to beg me for a truce? Jeremy told me all about your plea at dinner.”

  I stiffened. “It’s really pathetic how you push him around. One of these days he’s going to snap.”

  “If this is your way of begging me not to hurt your dad’s little business, you’re too late. I already called the city on him, and they’re bound to find enough codes to write him up on. He’ll be closed for months before it’s all straightened out.” She beamed at me, and I wanted to strangle her. “I’m bored with this conversation already. The two of you are trespassing.”

  “Oh no, we’re not,” Roxanna said. “We have an invitation. Which, I might add, were tacky.”

  “I thought you had learned your lesson by now,” she said to me.

  My body temperature shot through the roof. “The only lesson I’ve learned is that you’re crazy.”

  The door swung open and knocked Deborah in the back. She stumbled forward as Richard stepped inside.

  “Hey, I…” His voice trailed off when he realized we weren’t alone. He shot me a startled gaze. “I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

  “It’s fine,” I said through clenched teeth.

  He looked at Deborah, then to me, then to Roxanna. “Did you find it?”

  Deborah’s eyes narrowed. “Find what?”

 

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