Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress

by Kimberly Lang

  In an effort to help, Sarah also provided a bag full of samples from the cosmetic counters, including decadent bath salts in her favorite fragrance.

  She’d soak. Then she’d sleep. This horrible week would be over, and she’d have a fresh start for whatever she decided had to happen next.

  Pushing the door open with her foot, she blocked Letitia’s escape. From deep in her purse, she heard Evie’s ring tone. Knowing tonight was Evie’s big night, she’d been expecting a call all day. Evie, bless her heart, had to be a bit nervous. Heck, she was nervous for her, but she intentionally didn’t call because she didn’t want Evie to think Gwen had any doubts about her ability to shine.

  “Hey, there! Are you ready for tonight?”

  “Nooo, I’m not. I can’t do this.” Evie sounded on the brink of tears.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m going to screw this up. I know I am. I need you, Gwen. Please come with me.”

  Gwen dropped her bags to the floor and settled the phone more comfortably on her ear. “I can’t, you know that. I’m not a contributor.” And there’s no way Will wants me to show.

  “You can be my date.”

  “Evie…”

  “Will has a meeting tonight and won’t show up until late and Uncle Marcus has to go early and I can’t walk in there by myself!” A sob broke through, and Evie drew a ragged breath.

  “Yes, you can. You’re ready for this. You’re a natural and everyone is going to love you.” Okay, now I know how Sarah feels every time I go through a personal crisis.

  “Gwen, please.” Evie was working herself up into a full-scale fit. “Please come with me. You told me about those companion women who used to go with ladies to balls to chaperone them. You can be that if you don’t want to be my date. I need you there, though. Don’t make me do this alone.”

  What to say? “Evie…”

  “Please, Gwen.”

  She was both a sucker and a fool. Evie’s pleas tugged at her heart. The poor kid had every reason to be nervous, and at the rate she was going, she’d be a complete wreck by the time she arrived at the ball.

  I’m going to regret this. No doubt in her mind it was a bad idea. Of course, knowing something was a bad idea never stopped her before. Hell, bad ideas were what had put her in this situation.

  “Okay. Just calm down. You’ll get all puffy and blotchy if you keep crying.”

  “Then you’ll come with me?” The relief in her voice made Gwen want to cry for her.

  “I’ll come with you—but just for a little while until you feel comfortable.” Hopefully, that will be before Will decides to show up.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  “You can thank me by pulling yourself together and knocking them dead tonight.” Oh, hell, what am I going to wear?

  “I promise I’ll make you proud.”

  “You already do, honey. Now, what time?”

  “Uncle Marcus is sending a car for me at seven. I’ll have the driver swing by and pick you up on our way, okay?”

  “That’ll work. I’ll see you then.”

  “Bye, Gwen. And thank you. Really.”

  Seven o’clock? Yikes, it was after five already. She dumped food in Letitia’s dish with one hand and dialed with the other.

  Sarah answered on the first ring—she’d been on high alert all week with ice cream at the ready, but Gwen didn’t give her the chance to go into Support Mode.

  “I need a cocktail dress, but nothing too fancy. And possibly shoes, unless the dress will go with those black slingbacks I have. You know, the ones with the rhinestones? Oh, and I’ll need jewelry, too.” Leaving Letitia happily munching away, she sped down the hall to the bathroom.

  Confusion crept into Sarah’s voice. “Gwennie, what’s up?”

  “Oh, hell, just set me up with the full ensemble.” She wiggled out of her jeans and left them where they landed. “Can you do my hair, too?”

  “Of course, Gwennie. Whatever you need. Now, when do you want to come in? We could make a day of it, get our nails done…”

  Gwen juggled the phone so she could peel off her shirt. She twisted the taps on her shower to full blast and the pounding water made it hard for her to hear. “You don’t understand. I need this now. Tonight. Hell, twenty minutes ago would’ve been excellent.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just find me a dress and get over here with it. Please. I’m going to the Med Ball and I have less than two hours to get ready and I have nothing to wear.”

  “The Med Ball? Really? Oh, Gwennie,” she gushed, “that’s fantastic. So you and Will—”

  “No. Me and Evie.” Sarah started to say more. “Look, I’m getting in the shower now. I’ll fill you in on all the details when you get here. Hurry.”

  “I’m on my way. I know just the dress…”

  “Thank you. Bye, now.” She flipped the phone closed and tossed it on the pile of clothes at her feet.

  Somewhere between exfoliating and shaving, she realized this wasn’t the relaxing bath she planned. And this evening…so much for a calming get-your-head-back-together night in.

  She’d deliver Evie to Marcus, hang around long enough for Evie to acclimatize and realize she would do fine and then grab a cab home. An hour, max. Hopefully Will wouldn’t decide to show up earlier than planned and make a scene. Her ego couldn’t handle his derision twice in one week.

  Neither could her heart.

  “Gwen! You look amazing!” Gwen twirled a little for Evie and mentally thanked Sarah one more time. Her one-woman fashion army arrived forty-five minutes after her phone call, bearing a midnight-blue gown and ready to coif. Even the voice in the back of her head chanting “Bad Idea, Bad Idea,” had been slightly beaten down by the results Sarah produced. If a girl had to risk looking like a fool, at least she could be gorgeous while she did.

  “Now, let me see you.” Evie turned full circle, and Gwen’s breath caught. “Trust me, honey, you’re the one who looks amazing. No one would ever believe you were a tomboy surfer girl just a couple of weeks ago.”

  Evie smoothed the ice-blue silk of her dress. “I know. Do you like my hair?” She patted the complicated curls and twists.

  “It’s beautiful. As are you. But I think I miss the cornrows.”

  “Me, too.” Evie sighed dramatically at the loss.

  “Well, I think you both look fantastic,” Sarah gushed, snapping pictures like a proud mama on prom night.

  A small wave of disappointment moved through Gwen at the thought. Had things worked out differently, she would have helped Evie get ready for tonight. Instead Evie had dressed for her big night out all alone. It just wasn’t fair.

  She forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Let’s go.”

  Limos didn’t cruise her neighborhood often, and the one sitting in front of her house had her neighbors gawking. Evie slid in, saying, “I’m so glad we practiced sitting and standing and getting in and out of cars gracefully.”

  “See, I told you so.”

  Evie giggled, but not nervously. Instead Evie projected confidence and a youthful sophistication Gwen wished she could bottle for her debs. The stressed-out girl who had called her two hours ago was gone, replaced by a stunning young woman who seemed ready to conquer the world. Or at least Dallas.

  As the limo coasted to a smooth stop in front of the hotel, Evie reached over to squeeze her hand. “You’ll watch for my signal and step in if I need you, right?”

  “I’ll keep an eye on you, but you’re not going to need me. You’ll see.”

  Evie smiled, and her face lit up the inside of the dimly lit limo. “Thank you again for coming with me. The moral support helps.”

  “Knock ’em dead, sweetie.”

  A moment later, Evie stepped from the car with the aid of the chauffeur and into the waiting crowd.

  Feeling very much like a Regency duenna chaperoning her charge, Gwen trailed slightly in Evie’s wake. She scanned the crowd, noting she knew most of
the faces: debs she once trained, the parents of her current and future debs, people she knew from their pictures in the paper. Evie held her head high and smiled as Marcus Heatherton broke away from a group of society pillars and met her halfway across the room.

  “Evangeline! You look lovely, my dear.”

  Evie beamed as she turned a cheek to accept his air kiss. “You look very dashing yourself, Uncle Marcus.” Evie reached for Gwen and pulled her slightly forward. “And you remember Gwen, of course.”

  She bit her lip at Marcus’s look of utter horror. No doubt Will had told him enough to make him believe the very worst about her. She plastered a smile across her face and brazened it out. “Mr. Heatherton, it’s nice to see you again.”

  Marcus quickly schooled his features into benign friendliness. “How unexpected, Miss Sawyer. I didn’t realize you would be escorting Evangeline.”

  Evie stepped in smoothly before Gwen could answer. “I had to beg her to come. I wouldn’t be here tonight without Gwen’s help, and I wanted her to see how well I did.”

  Oh, Evie was good. Not much Marcus could say in response to that without sounding like a first-class snob.

  “I’m sure Miss Sawyer knows many people here and will enjoy catching up with them. If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to introduce Evangeline to some of her father’s friends.”

  Well, that could have been worse. Dismissed, she watched as Marcus led Evie away, and then flagged down a server for champagne. Moments later, she was surrounded by familiar faces as her former debs greeted her with hugs and flashes of enormous engagement rings.

  Tish Cotter-Hulme found her quickly as well. The friendly crowd dispersed rapidly as no one wanted to unwittingly provide Tish with fuel for Monday’s column. Tish’s graying hair was swept back from her surgically enhanced face, which barely moved as she smiled. “Gwen, dear, I’m so glad to finally see you at one of these functions.”

  That fake smile didn’t fool Gwen for a second, and her former good mood turned sour. Gwen tried to find a light tone to cover. “No comment, Tish. I’ve been on page three enough recently, thanks very much.”

  “Oh, Gwen, don’t be so harsh. You make it sound like I’m only after a story.”

  Gwen kept a surreptitious eye on Evie, who seemed to be doing better than fine at the moment. Bradley Harrison’s friends and business cronies wore enchanted smiles, and since several had teenage grandsons Evie’s age, Gwen wouldn’t be surprised if Evie’s social calendar filled up rapidly after tonight.

  “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be standing here.” Gwen sighed. “For the record, there’s no story to report. I was hired to help Evie transition from her old life into her new one. You know that. As you can see, she has done so beautifully. I’m only here because Evie asked me to come because she thought I might enjoy myself. I’ve grown very fond of her over the last few weeks, and I’m very pleased with how well she’s handled all of the adjustments. Coping with the loss of her parents and a move here is a lot for anyone to handle and she’s done beautifully.” There, print that on page three, you nosey witch.

  Tish cocked an eyebrow at her. “And Will Harrison? Are you fond of him as well?

  Gwen lifted an eyebrow of her own. “I think you’ve beaten that dead horse long enough. Oh, I know how boring truth is compared to speculation, but you’re just writing fiction these days.” Evie was now being introduced to the president of the Dallas Junior League and the head of Parkline Academy. When she tossed her head back and laughed, Gwen knew tonight was a complete success. In another few minutes, she’d be able to head home without worry.

  “But you—”

  Inspiration struck. “I tell you what. You tell me how you found out about my contract, and—” she leaned in conspiratorially and lowered her voice “—I’ll give you something for Monday’s column.”

  Tish eyed her suspiciously. “What’s in it for you?”

  “I’m just curious.”

  “You’re willing to violate your nondisclosure agreement just to appease your curiosity?”

  How’d she know about that? “Let’s just say there are some things I know about the Harrisons that won’t put me in violation of anything.”

  “Don’t jerk me around, Gwen. It won’t be pretty. Rumors kill in your business, you know.”

  “Oh, trust me, I know. I’ve done plenty of damage control thanks to you.”

  “Fine. Will Harrison had a temp in his office one day while his normal tight-lipped secretary was out sick. The temp found your contract and your check. She called me.”

  Good to know. She’d make sure Nancy had that tidbit of info first thing Monday morning. HarCorp’s HR was about to be hit by a hurricane.

  “So what have you got for me?” Tish practically salivated at the idea of juicy gossip she could twist into something even more salacious.

  Gwen thought quickly. “From what I heard—” she smothered a smile as Tish leaned in eagerly “—Will isn’t dating Grace Myerly any longer.”

  Tish’s face fell. “That’s it? Everyone knows they called it quits months ago. Old news, Gwen.”

  “Really?” She feigned innocence. “I didn’t know that. It was a surprise to me.”

  “Surely you have something better for me.”

  Gwen shrugged. “Sorry, no. I guess I wasn’t in as tight with the Harrisons as you insinuated.”

  “Don’t play stupid, Gwen. It doesn’t suit you.” Suddenly Tish’s attention shifted to something over Gwen’s right shoulder. Her face lit up in interest. “Oh, look, there’s your boss now.”

  Gwen froze. Oh, no. Why hadn’t she left earlier instead of standing here sparring with Tish? She turned to see Will make a beeline to the crowd surrounding Evie. Will bent to kiss Evie’s cheek in greeting, but Evie’s response lacked her normal exuberance. Thankfully only someone who knew them both well would notice.

  There was much handshaking and backslapping going on around them, and Evie now wore a small, self-conscious smile. If she had to guess, Will was being made aware of how charming and what a success she was. Then, someone else said something, causing Evie to give Will a “so there” look, and Will stiffened slightly.

  He knows I’m here.

  When Will started to scan the crowd, Gwen knew he was looking for her. She really didn’t want their first meeting to be here, in this crush of people. She hadn’t yet figured out what she wanted to say to him.

  “Who’s he looking for, I wonder?” Tish’s voice made Gwen jump. She’d forgotten Tish was still standing there, and the insinuation in the statement made Gwen want to smack her.

  “Hmm, I don’t know, Tish.” She had to get away from that woman, so she added brightly, “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get a refill on my drink.”

  Without waiting for Tish’s response, Gwen headed for the bar. She cut around the dance floor, where couples moved easily to the band’s music, smiling and waving to people like nothing was out of the ordinary.

  She took a deep breath, and concentrated on slowing her rapid heartbeat. She hadn’t prepared for this. Seeing him. Her chest hurt, and she vacillated between wanting to hit him with something heavy and wanting to run to the bathroom and hide. Leaving—while the obviously simple solution—wasn’t an option now. Even if no one believed Tish’s rumors of romantic doings between them, everyone knew of their business relationship. Etiquette required her to at least speak to him.

  Sometimes, the rules really sucked.

  The bartender handed her a fresh glass of champagne and she sipped at it gratefully. Each bubble, though, seemed to have taken on a sharp edge and made swallowing difficult.

  “Gwen? You look pale. Is everything all right?”

  It took her a second to focus on the speaker. When her brain clicked back on, she saw Megan Morris, the former debutante who gave her the nickname of Miss Behavior, staring at her with a worried expression.

  “I’m fine now, Megan,” she lied. “I just got a little overheated in the other room.”


  Megan patted her arm. “It is a bit of a crush sometimes. Plus, I saw Tish Cotter-Hulme had you cornered there for a while. That’s enough hot air to overheat anyone.” She smiled, and Gwen’s heart rate finally began to slow to a normal rhythm. “Now, come with me. I have some people I’d like you to meet.”

  She couldn’t say no, so she allowed herself to be led to a group of twentysomethings where she made idle conversation for the next fifteen minutes. She tried to keep an eye on Evie, just in case, but Evie had made her mark and was taking a turn on the dance floor. She’d just managed to relax some when she saw Will approaching out of the corner of her eye.

  She tensed as members of the group greeted Will. Finally Will turned in her direction, and she braced herself.

  He won’t make a scene in public, she reminded herself.

  “Gwen, I didn’t expect to see you here.” There was no warmth in his voice, and her heart ached at the bland, yet polite, tone.

  “It was a last-minute plan. Evie asked me to come.” She watched the people around them carefully, but no one seemed to see anything amiss. “I assume Evie’s having a good time, as I haven’t had a chance to talk to her since we arrived.”

  “Evie seems to be enjoying herself, and she’s certainly charming my father’s friends. May I speak with you for a moment?”

  “Of course.” Act normally. “Excuse me,” she said to the others, hoping they’d see nothing out of the ordinary about Will’s behavior.

  “Care to explain what you’re doing here?” So much for bland-yet-polite—Will’s tone could refreeze the ice sculptures.

  “Marcus had to come early and you were going to be late and Evie didn’t want to walk in alone. She shouldn’t have been placed in such an uncomfortable position, and I couldn’t deny her such a simple and understandable request.” She raised an eyebrow, practically daring him to rebut.

  The arrival of the chief of staff from the hospital forestalled Will’s response, and she listened and smiled politely as Will and HarCorp were thanked profusely for their support of the hospital’s fund-raising efforts.

  When the chief of staff moved on, Will grabbed her by the elbow. “Let’s dance.”