Good Karma (2 page)

Throughout history, celebrities and
dignitaries had stayed and performed in the Palmer House Hilton,
and she could see why. The hotel was magnificent. Who wouldn’t want
to cozy up to all this grandeur? But while such guests might have
thought it was them who graced the hotel with their presence, she
felt it was the other way around. The hotel was the greatest
celebrity of them all, gracing all who entered with
its
presence, graced by none, and making everyone within its walls a
celebrity by association. Karma certainly felt like a Hollywood
starlet just being here, even though in the real world she was a
big fat nobody. Such was the magical spell of the Palmer House
Hilton.

As she waited for Daniel outside the ballroom
entrance, a dozen pairs of men’s eyes turned toward her. These were
men way out of her league, some with women on their arms, some
without, but all dressed in suits worth more money than she earned
in a month. Talk about intimidating. And yet, an unfamiliar thrill
shot through her blood from the attention.

Daniel rejoined her and took her hand. “All
set. You ready to explore Wonderland?”

“Huh?” She frowned up at him.

He laughed. “Alice? Wonderland?” He gestured
into the ballroom, apparently having way too much fun at her
starry-eyed expense.

She made a blasé face. “How about you stop
giving me a hard time and help me find a glass of champagne?” If
she was going to play starlet for the evening, she was going to
drink like one.

“Well, well.” He arched one of his perfectly
groomed eyebrows. “Certainly,
madam
.” He bowed his head and
led her inside.

“That’s more like it.” She clutched his hand
as the vibrant energy of the room invaded her. She could almost
feel the money, the prestige, the sexy influence of so many
powerful people in one place. The weighty stature of those in
attendance seemed to add another layer to the paint on the walls.
It infiltrated the air and covered all the surfaces. It was an
invisible guest making its way around the room, infecting
everyone.

“You belong here, Karma.” Daniel squeezed her
hand.

Startled, she turned and met his coffee brown
eyes. “You’re joking, right?”

He shook his head. “For once, no.” His gaze
ranged her face then down to the dress that made her feel like a
spotlight was shining on her. “You clean up well, Karma. Very well.
You’re the prettiest girl here.” He examined the room. “But, damn,
the way all these men are looking at you is giving me a complex.”
He ushered her in the direction of the bar.

She had to admit she did feel different. More
alive. Maybe even a bit audacious, like she might actually be able
to pull off the celebrity status in her fantasies. She bit her
bottom lip and glanced over her shoulder, catching the eye of a
handsome, older man who was chatting with another couple. His gaze
swiftly appraised her as she passed, and he smiled. Trying not to
giggle, she turned back toward Daniel. A part of her liked the
attention, but she had no idea how to react to it.

Was her sudden sense of adventure a result of
all the designer bling? The fact she was in unfamiliar surroundings
that beckoned her fantasies? Or was her shockingly red dress the
cause? After all, red was the color of passion and danger. Perhaps
she was subconsciously connecting with her attire and absorbing its
influence, becoming someone else, but who? A vixen? A daredevil? A
woman snared by her desires? And if so, what exactly
were
her desires? Her life had been so bland up to this point that she
hadn’t given them a lot of thought.

Now, in one night, wearing a bold dress and
towering shoes—both of which were completely outside her comfort
zone—she dared to imagine she could be someone else. Someone bold,
who took risks, who was maybe a tad reckless. No longer did she
fall into the dependable, responsible mold she had clung to her
entire life.

As Daniel ushered her toward the bar, she
noticed the way the men in her path covertly—or even
flagrantly—stared at her. One tipped his drink. Another raised one
eyebrow and offered an appreciative nod. All the attention made her
cheeks heat, and her fingers played over the low neckline of her
dress as her gaze flitted from one man to the next.

No one had ever stared at her. At least not
like that. But in the short distance it took to reach the bar,
Karma caught at least a half-dozen men undressing her with their
eyes. The attention was unnerving, yet exhilarating. For the first
time, men didn’t see her as one of the guys, their buddy, their pal
they could hang with after a softball game or eat pizza with and
tell crude jokes around.

Tonight, she was a goddess, and a strange
inner voice she had never welcomed before preened and sighed
delightedly at being freed. Who was this new woman emerging from
her body? This courageous woman with a new outlook, who enjoyed
being gawked at in a way old Karma had never experienced nor
appreciated?

Back in Indianapolis, she was forever
destined to be the bridesmaid but never the bride, but not here.
Not in Chicago. Tonight, she felt like a movie star, the one woman
in the room all the men wanted to ask to dance, kiss, whisk away in
a magical carriage. She was Cinderella.

Beside her, Daniel casually glanced around as
he lifted a glass of champagne. Under his breath, barely moving his
lips, he said, “Girl, you’ve got every man within twenty yards
wishing he’d come alone tonight, and every woman wishing you hadn’t
come
at all
.” He caught her eye with a devilish wink and
took a sip of his champagne. “See what a little makeup and a new
hairstyle can do? Oh, and of course, a dress that’s not part of
some boring business ensemble.” He half-rolled his eyes as he
looked away.

Karma giggled, unable to stop the giddy,
surprising rush of excitement tugging at a part of her that she
hadn’t known existed. A part that wanted the attention…that wanted
these men to desire her and these women to be jealous of her. She
had never been the source of a woman’s jealousy, nor the reason for
a man ignoring his date.

“Come on,” Daniel said, taking her hand,
“let’s find the casino room. I’m sure to win big with you
distracting all the men. Do you think I can get you to flash some
leg?”

“Daniel.”

“Just kidding.”

Karma snatched a glass of champagne and
welcomed this new personality clamoring for the spotlight. For just
one night, she could live the fantasy. She could be Cinderella.
Soon enough, she would return to Indiana, to the ho-hum job not in
her field of study, to the only town she had ever called home, and
tuck this newfound side of her personality back into its
closet.

But for now, she would enjoy the fairy
tale.

Chapter 2

I cannot
always control what goes on outside. But I can always control what
goes on inside.

-Wayne Dyer

In his suite, Mark Strong shrugged into his Armani
tuxedo jacket. He rented a room at the Palmer House Hilton every
year for the Chicago Arts Coalition’s annual charity benefit.
Better to do that than drink and drive. And he knew tonight he
would be drinking. That was a given at this event.

After a quick adjustment to the cuffs of his
crisp white shirt, Mark smoothed his palm down his tie then made
his way from his suite to the fourth floor, fashionably late.

The entire floor had been reserved for the
benefit, an event he had been attending since he was a teenager. Of
course, back then, he’d been with his parents. At thirty, he no
longer needed a chaperone.

In the exhibit hall, a variety of portraits,
paintings, sculptures, and other works of art were on display, and
a string quartet played on a small stage against one wall. In the
Red Lacquer room, a mock casino had been set up for the evening,
where those with a taste for risk could sate their demons for a
good cause, as well as the chance to win one of the glamorous door
prizes being given away.

But the main action was in the Grand and
State ballrooms, where food and drink coursed among the partygoers
in the hands of black-tied wait staff, and where Chicago’s social
elite mingled. While the allure of gambling was tempting, Mark
would remain in the main ballroom for now and fulfill his social
obligation, hobnobbing with politicians and socialites, as well as
the members of his parents’ dance studio, who were old friends he
had known since childhood.

With a friendly nod, he plucked a flute of
champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and eased into the crowd. A
quartet of guitarists on the stage began playing a slow, Spanish
tune perfect for a sensuous rumba. If only he had a date, he might
have swept her onto the dance floor to give his retired moves a
wake-up call.

Turning away, he navigated the crowd,
stopping occasionally to converse and shake hands. The music
created a gentle ambience within the warmth of shimmering,
burnished gold walls and sparkling chandeliers. Candlelit table
lanterns and fern fronds added an elegant touch to an already
decadent room.

“Mom. Dad.” He stepped between his
fashionably attired parents standing beside one of the cocktail
tables in the reception area. “You look good.” He shook his dad’s
hand then kissed his mom on the cheek.

“So do you, honey.” His mom fiddled with his
tie. “You’re so handsome in your tux. Where’s Abby?” She frowned
and looked around.

He cleared his throat and briefly turned his
attention to the crowd. “Abby and I broke up.” He downed a healthy
swallow of champagne.

A note of disappointment crossed his mom’s
face. “Oh.”

By now, she had to be used to the revolving
door of women who came into his life then exited a few months
later. Mark didn’t do commitments. Not anymore. The only meaningful
relationship in his life had fallen apart in grand fashion six
years ago, and he’d been trying to make up for his shortcomings
ever since.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She stared into her
wine glass. “Abby was a nice girl.”

All the women he dated were nice. Educated,
well appointed, and sophisticated. What every man of means looked
for in a woman. They just weren’t for him. Or, rather, he wasn’t
for them. He wasn’t good for any woman now. Not after the nightmare
of his past, which had messed up his head to the point he couldn’t
even set foot in a church anymore.

Mark averted his gaze to the clusters of
people gathered among the impeccably decorated tables. “It just
didn’t work out between us.” He took another drink of champagne.
The alcohol would help him get through the evening. “Is Carol
dancing the exhibition again this year?”

“No, not this year,” his mom said flatly
before quickly taking a sip of wine.

His dad forced a tight grin. “Sonya is.”

Mark scrutinized his parents’ truncated
reactions. Then again, Carol wasn’t a cozy topic of discussion
between him and his parents.

“Sonya? That’s an interesting choice.”

Carol was the most decorated dancer at his
parents’ studio. She had performed the exhibition for the past five
years. She was in her prime and a three-time Professional Latin
Ballroom Champion. Why would Sonya take Carol’s place? Not that
Sonya was a poor choice. She was adequate for the task and a rising
star at the studio. In fact, she had recently won her first
competition.

“Yes, well, Sonya has really impressed us.”
Mom took another hasty drink of her wine, glancing away.

“Will Carol be here?” Mark finished his
champagne and grabbed another from a passing tray.

His mom shifted uneasily and looked at his
father. What was with all the cloak-and-dagger?

“I think she and Antonio will be here, yes,”
his dad said with an edge of discomfort.

Antonio. Carol’s dance partner. Her husband.
A woman thief. But then, that wasn’t really fair. What had happened
wasn’t Antonio’s fault. He’d just been the benefactor.

A hand clapped down on Mark’s shoulder. “Hey,
Mark.”

He turned to find his best friend, Rob, had
joined them. “Hey, buddy.”

Rob shook hands with Mark’s dad and kissed
his mom on the cheek. “Good to see you again, Mr. and Mrs.
Strong.”

“Likewise,” his mom said. “You look good,
Rob. Have you been working out?” She appeared eager to change the
subject, which curdled Mark’s nerves.

“I’ve been hitting the gym pretty hard
lately.” Rob eyed Mark. “Your son has been kicking my ass on the
courts, so I needed to get a leg up somehow.”

“Oh really?” His dad chuckled. “I always
thought he had the talent to play in the pros.”

Mark gave his dad a good-natured but cynical
look. “You know I’m too short.”

“Too short? You’re six-two, son.”

“Yeah, too short.” Mark laughed. “Some of
those guys are over seven feet tall.”

“Oh, but you were talented enough. Look at
Michael Jordan. They said he was too short, too.”

Mark glanced around the room and sipped his
champagne. “I’ll stick with consultant work.”

“Speaking of, how is work?” his dad asked.
“We haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I just finished an assignment a couple of
weeks ago in Wisconsin.”

“And now what?” His father swirled the wine
in his glass.

“I’ll be heading down to Indianapolis on
Monday.” Mark’s eye continued to rove the room. Just hearing that
Carol was attending the benefit had him on high alert. Mark lifted
his glass only to find it empty. Again. But then, they were barely
filling the flutes halfway.

“Indianapolis, huh?” His dad flagged down a
waiter after noticing Mark was dry. “Weren’t you just there for
March Madness?”

“Yes.” Mark drove down to Indy almost every
year for the NCAA basketball tournament.

“And now you’re going down for a job just in
time for the Indy 500. How’s that for luck?”