Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [77]
But nothing she did erased the fact that she hadn’t talked to Caine since they’d made out in his car Monday night. Which was fine with her. She didn’t care.
Okay that was lie, and she was trying not to lie to herself anymore. So she did care, but she’d get over it. Naturally she’d be concerned that Caine might be off on some rogue mission with his father’s case without consulting her. Of course, if he had consulted her, it wouldn’t be a rogue mission.
She was still trying to recover from her father telling her that Aunt Lorraine was swimming with the fishes. She hoped Caine hadn’t done anything drastic or illegal. Maybe she should call him to find out.
Right. Like he’d tell her if he’d done something wrong. She removed her hand from her BlackBerry.
Forget Caine and concentrate on getting through this event tonight.
Faith had considered getting her hair trimmed but was afraid of messing up the haircut she loved so much and looking like a wreck, so she left it as it was. She spent a lot of time preparing for the charity ball. Her hair was styled, her underarms and legs were shaved, her body moisturized with Stella McCartney’s sexy and stylish lotion. Studying her reflection in the mirror, she decided that she’d never looked better in her life.
She was ready to go when Yuri called to inform her that Dylan was downstairs waiting for her.
“Showtime,” she whispered as she entered the elevator, momentarily flashing back to when Caine had said the same word before heading into the convenience store during their surveillance. No, tonight wasn’t about Caine. Tonight was about the first major public appearance of the “new” her. Many of the people there tonight were guests at her wedding over a month ago. But they’d never seen the mad, bad and blonde version of Faith. Which left her with only one thing to say, courtesy of Buddy: “Hold on to your hats, honeypies.”
Chapter Sixteen
Faith stepped out of the elevator in the foyer downstairs and found Dylan Donovan waiting for her. He looked stunning in a tux and was driving a black Porsche.
“Thank you so much for stepping in and agreeing to help,” she told him.
“No problem.” He caught her glancing at the car. “It’s used. I borrowed it from a friend of mine for the night. My Jeep doesn’t go with my tux.”
“Right.” Then she worried that she sounded snobbish. “Not that there’s anything wrong with a Jeep.”
“Wouldn’t go with your dress either. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. So do you. I mean you look nice.” Shut up, Faith. Next you’ll be telling him some story about Bertha Palmer and one of her numerous charity balls. Thank heavens the ball wasn’t at the Palmer House this time but was instead taking place at McCormick Place. Otherwise who knew what trivia Faith might have come up with about the hotel’s original owners.
Dylan’s manners were impeccable. He held her hand as she got into the Porsche and closed the door for her. Once they arrived at their location, he again helped her out of the low-slung sports car.
The organizers outdid themselves with the large ballroom’s decorations, transforming it into a magical place decked out in shades of silver, black, teal and white. Teal linens and rose-filled mirrored boxes decorated the tables.
Faith’s parents were already seated at the table. Only then did she realize that this was the first time she’d seen them together since her canceled wedding. Her mother looked lovely in a conservative navy blue full-length gown. Her father looked at ease in his tuxedo. But he wasn’t paying attention to his wife. Instead, he was talking to someone else. Thankfully it wasn’t the beautiful mystery client but an older man with silver hair.
Faith’s mom smiled with relief when she saw Faith. “Megan and her dad are at the silent auction table making some bids.”
Faith introduced Dylan as a friend of hers. He charmed her mother