Winner Takes All (12 page)

Ruth had immediately insisted she try it. “If it looks ridiculous, we’ll try something else. No harm done.” She winked at Marcel.

Eva had thought this was reasonable and quickly put on the dress so they could move on to more practical suggestions. But they never did move on. The dress looked fabulous. So fabulous she forgot to be petulant.

Looking at it now, Eva was again amazed at how well the deep red color looked with her coloring. But it wasn’t only the dress. The strappy sandals that Ruth had finagled were just as beautiful, showing off her pedicure to perfection, and her makeup was divine, somehow managing to be both sexy and subtle.

“I’ve run out of adjectives,” Eva said, turning to Ruth.

“Hmm?”

“I’m standing here thinking about how wonderful, stunning, gorgeous, stupendous, marvelous, amazing, incredible, fabulous you’ve made me look, and I’ve run out of adjectives.”

“Can we say you pass muster and leave it at that?” she asked, relieved by her friend’s pleased response. It wasn’t enough that Eva look beautiful; she also had to feel comfortable in her finery.

“We could, but it would be wholly inadequate.” She took Ruth’s hands and squeezed them. “I don’t know how I can thank you.”

“Get yourself on Page Six and we’ll call it even.”

Eva made a face. “You’re relentless.”

“If I were relentless, I would’ve told you to get your hot bod in
Us Weekly.
Then Marcel said you can keep the dress.”

At once, Eva covered her head and sang
la la la.
“The evening is already stressful enough. I will not let you make it worse.”

Ruth shrugged. “If you want to give that stunning dress back, that’s your business. Now, here’s your purse. We should get going. It’s after seven.” Ten minutes later, when they were in a cab speeding uptown, she said, “I’m glad Mark is going.”

Eva hadn’t expect this. “Really?”

“Yeah, he’s great in pressure situations. My previous opinion stands,” she hastened to assure her, “you definitely should not see Mark in any sort of romantic light. But for a strong shoulder to lean on, I can’t think of anyone better.”

“He is reliable, isn’t he?” Eva said. “I’m going to miss that.”

“Why will you miss it?”

“He’s got to have a relationship sometime, doesn’t he?” she stated logically. “If not me, then someone else. And I don’t think a girlfriend would like him riding to our rescue quite so much. Nor would he have quite so much time to do it.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I could be wrong.”

Eva could see that this wasn’t something that Ruth had ever thought of and she let the idea simmer during the rest of the ride to Hell’s Kitchen. When they pulled up in front of Mark’s apartment building, he was already by the curb.

“Hey there, handsome,” Eva said, climbing gingerly out of the cab. She still wasn’t accustomed to three-inch heels.

Mark took her arm and helped her regain her balance. “Hi yourself, gorgeous.”

“I can take no credit. It was all Ruth.”

Ruth slammed the car door and walked around the cab. “As much as I want to, I can’t take credit for your five-foot-nine frame or your C-cup breasts. That’s either God or your parents.”

Eva laughed. “Bah, they were just raw materials in the hands of a master. Trust me, Mark, she knows what’s she’s doing.”

Ruth snorted impolitely and looked Mark over. He wore his conservative tux with flair, choosing a red tie over the standard-issue black bow-tie. It should have made him look like a Victorian butler, but instead it drew attention to his personal style. His shaggy hair had been cut short for the occasion in a style that served to emphasize his excellent bone structure and pillowy red lips. Ruth, staring at him unblinkingly, found herself wondering why she had never before noticed how deep brown his eyes were.

“My God,” he said, linking his arm through Eva’s, “we make a fantastic-looking couple.” He looked to Ruth. “Am I wrong?”

She shook herself loose from the odd fascination she suddenly felt. “No, you make a beautiful couple. Smile!” she said, snapping a series of posed shots for her Instagram feed. “Now give me some action. Mark, help her into the cab.”

As soon as Mark helped Eva into the cab, Ruth insisted that he help her out again. Then she told Eva to help Mark into the car.

“Seriously, no,” Eva said, taking out her own phone and wrapping her arm around Ruth for a selfie. Mark sidled up to Ruth and took a picture of all three of them.

The cab driver grumbled and Eva said, “All right, guys, enough prom shots. Let’s get this thing over with.”

“Love the attitude, Cinderella,” Ruth said with a laugh.

Grateful for her help, Eva enveloped her friend in a hug. “You’re the best fairy godmother ever. I’ll text you photos as soon as we get there.”

“Photos and running commentary,” Ruth insisted as the fantastic-looking couple climbed into the waiting cab. She shut the door and leaned against the window. “And call me the second you leave. I don’t care how late it is. Mark, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Have a blast, guys.”

“I don’t suppose you happened to notice Ruth staring at you with her tongue hanging out,” Eva asked, as the cab pulled away from the curb.

He swallowed hard and willed himself not to believe it. Sometimes women misread signals from other women. “No, I guess I missed that.”

Eva nodded and fell silent. They passed the ride like that, each of them lost in his or her own thoughts, and it was only when they were approaching the Guggenheim, where the event was to be held, that he took her hand and asked what she was thinking.

She shrugged. “I was just wondering if Cinderella had felt sick to her stomach.”

CHAPTER SIX

“This isn’t so
bad,” she said to Mark, as she finished her second glass of red wine. She’d wanted something stronger, like a vodka tonic or neat whiskey, but she decided to err on the side of caution. She didn’t want to get drunk at her first New York society function. It might be her only one, and she wanted to remember it. And so far there had been much worth remembering. Walking up the red carpet had been a thrill, especially since nobody paid attention to them. She and Mark were able to gawk at the celebrities who went by as easily as the bystanders on the other side of the velvet rope, only they had a better view. Even now that they were in the museum, they were still gawking. Eva was even trying to come up with believable lines to strike up conversation with her favorite actresses. “Feeling has returned to my fingers.”

“Excellent,” Mark said, as he plucked a canapé with caviar off a passing silver tray. “I didn’t realize your fingers had lost feeling.”

“Whenever I’m really nervous, my fingers go numb.”

“Here”—he held out the small toast point—“try this. It’s fabulous.”

Eva open her mouth and he pushed the canapé in. She chewed slowly. So far everything she had eaten had been mouthwateringly delicious. “Let’s follow him,” she said.

“No, I think we’re better off here. We’re getting a good random sampling.”

“I like your logic.” Eva looked around at the glitterati in their sparkling gowns and jewelry and thanked heaven yet again that Ruth had made her wear the diamond and rubies. Although she was just a pretender to the throne, Eva knew she looked the part. And that helped. It make her feel comfortable. “I wonder where the photographer from
Us
is. I’m tempted to photo bomb every shot. Ruth failed to clarify under what conditions I should get in the magazine, only that I should.”

“I wish I could help you out,” he said regretfully, eyeing a tray of crab cakes, “but I only know the photographers from my magazine. Do you think if we move four feet to the left we’d be in the path of that woman?”

Eva quickly calculated the waitress’s vector. “Perhaps three feet. I’m willing to give it a try.” When they were in their new position with crab cakes in hand, she said, “Are any of your photographers here?”

“No. All the ones I know cover foreign wars, not the culture wars,” he said, finishing his martini. “So tell me, does feeling in your fingers mean I can leave you here for a second while I go to the bathroom?”

When they had entered the museum, Eva had laid down the ground rules, the most important and inviolate of which being that he didn’t leave her side for even a fraction of a millisecond. He had complied without complaining for almost forty-five minutes.

Eva wiggled her fingers. They really seemed fine. “Okay, you go to the bathroom. I’m going to wander over there to the bar to get another drink. We will rendezvous back here in five point two minutes. Let’s synchronize our phones. As far as my calculations go, we are more than halfway through cocktail hour. We’re doing well. Dinner and dancing should be a breeze. The auction itself is the only unknown in the equation. Remember, we have nothing to fear but fear itself.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, curious about the seeming non sequitur.

“Fear is insidious,” she said, wondering what she would do if Mark was gone for more than five minutes. What if there was a line for the men’s room? Get a grip, Butler, she ordered herself. There’s never a line for the men’s room. “Oh, God, I’m losing feeling in the tips of my fingers.”

“Are you all right? I can stay. I don’t have to go.”

“You don’t have to go?”

He flushed slightly. “I do have to go, but I can wait a little while, until feeling returns to your fingertips or something.”

It was a lovely offer, but Eva shook her head. “No, I’m going to be brave and you’re going to be sensible. I’ve spent enough time in bars to know how to stand alone and look fascinated with myself.”

Mark kissed her cheek as encouragement. “You’ll do fine, kid.”

As if to test his prediction, she forced herself to stand there for a minute. She didn’t want it to look as if the bar was her only lifeline. It was, of course, but nobody else had to know that.

“You know, being invited with a guest was merely a courtesy. You weren’t supposed to actually bring one,” a voice said from behind her.

Eva spun around with a dazzling smile on her lips. “Reed!” she exclaimed, genuinely delighted to see him. She had looked for him in vain when they’d first arrived. “It’s so lovely to see a familiar face. I mean, I’m surrounded by familiar faces, but yours is the first one that actually finds mine familiar as well.”

He laughed, glad to finally be near her. He had been watching her from the moment she’d arrived, waiting for her bodyguard to leave her side. For a while it had seemed as though he would stick like glue for the entire evening. And no wonder. The way she looked tonight, he wouldn’t let another man within ten feet of her if he could help it. “You look stunning,” he said. “Absolutely stunning.”

Eva’s breath caught in her throat, not so much because of his words but because of the glow in his eyes. “Thank you. In the last twenty-four hours, a very dear friend had to threaten half of New York to get me to look like this.”

“The effort was well worth it,” he assured her.

“Thank you again.” She looked around, trying to avoid his startling sapphire gaze. “This is all so lovely. Have you been to many of these?”

“Too many. You don’t have a drink. Let’s see if we can fix that.” He deliberately led her to the bar on the other side of the room, out of her date’s sight line, should he return to the spot where she had been standing. Cole didn’t want her to be found so easily.

Eva tried not to shiver from his hand on her elbow. “I was very surprised to get an invitation. Do I have you to thank?”

“No, this wasn’t my doing. But I’ll be sure to thank the person responsible.” At the bar, he ordered her a red wine.

Although she was disappointed that he hadn’t invited her himself, she knew the invitation meant her proposal had gotten into the right hands. Someone at Hammond had wanted to meet her. Hopefully it would be the boss himself. “Ah,” she said, accepting the glass. “Just what I’ve been drinking. How’d you guess?”

He shrugged carelessly. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I don’t know if
enjoying
is the right word. There are too many things going on around me and in my head for there to be enjoyment, but I’m very glad to be here. And there’s the possibility for enjoyment later on, assuming I don’t make any huge social gaffes. I’m a little nervous about the auction.”

“Stick with me and you’ll be fine.”

“All right,” she said softly, looking deeply into his mesmerizing blue eyes. He’s too attractive, she thought. There’s no way I can be fine with such a beautiful man. “Um, I…uh…want to thank you again for meeting with me on Tuesday. I sent off my proposal first thing Wednesday morning. I haven’t heard anything yet, but I can only assume that it got into the right hands. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

She was angling for confirmation of this, but he didn’t give it. Her date was approaching. Eva noticed Mark a second later and smiled at him. “Mark,” she said, taking his arm with her free hand, “there’s someone here I want you to meet. This is Mark, a very good friend of mine.” Then she turned toward Reed. “And this is—”

“Please, Eva, a man like him needs no introduction,” Mark said, interrupting her and holding out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Hammond. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Eva felt her heart drop to the floor, and she clenched her fist around the wineglass so that it wouldn’t slip out of her suddenly jointless fingers.

“I work for a rival newsweekly,” Mark said when he saw the devastated expression on Eva’s face. It was clear she hadn’t known whom she was talking to. “And I want to compliment you on
World Events
. It’s an excellent magazine. Your coverage of the situation in Kashmir, in particular, is outstanding. I’ve been in the region myself and find your articles really capture what’s going on.”

Cole could also see that Eva was distressed. Damn it, this wasn’t the way he wanted her to find out. He had been planning on telling her this evening, just not yet. Perhaps after she finished her third glass of wine. He knew she’d be embarrassed when she learned the truth, but he’d hoped to dull that with drink and flattering words. Now all he could do was give her time to pull herself together. He focused on Eva’s friend. “Mark? You wouldn’t happen to be Mark Roberts? I read your piece on Afghanistan last month. Brilliant stuff.”