Diana Rowland - How the White Trash Zombie Got Her Groove Back

Jane blinked at me, then frowned. “Angel, I’m going to trust you on this,” she said slowly. “That you’re in New York at all tells me there’s something serious afoot. I’ll have Victor with me while I see them here, in this room, and then I will leave.” She fixed me with a hard look. “And then you will tell me exactly what is going on and what happened to Pietro.”

“Yeah, sure thing!” I said, totally lying. Hell, right now I’d promise my soul to the devil if it would get her out of this place safely.

I wasn’t sure if she believed me, but at least she didn’t protest. She gestured Victor over. “I’ll see you outside then?” she asked me.

“All I want is to be sure you’re safe,” I said, not directly answering the question.

Jane simply nodded. “I’ll be out in five minutes.” She gave Victor a smile as he reached her side, murmured to him that she had a headache and would be leaving soon. It was clear he understood it was fiction, but he simply nodded, pulled out a phone, and called for the driver to bring the car around.

I slouched in relief as Jane moved off, and let my gaze drift around to the rest of the event. People were beginning to filter into the ballroom where I could see tables laid out with expensive-looking china and crystal, and decorated with gorgeous centerpieces of white flowers. Jane moved through the crowd with ease to where a tall and stylish blue-eyed woman with honey-blond hair stood with a younger broad-shouldered man. He had the same blue eyes and honey-blond hair as his mother. Nicole and Andrew Saber, both talking to a man with his back to me. Nicole wore an off-the-shoulder, dark red gown with a beaded top and a flowing silky skirt. Andrew wore a tux that sure as hell wasn’t a rental.

Edging slightly closer, I heard Jane greet Nicole warmly, then watched as Jane gave a slight wince and put a hand to her temple, apologized for a headache and her need to leave soon. Damn, but she was smooth. My admiration for her grew.

Jane shifted her attention to the other man with them, and the surprise in her expression gave me only a whisper of warning before he turned and swept his gaze my way.

Brian. I froze, and my gut gave a horrible lurch. Brian, standing here dressed in a goddamn tuxedo, talking to the Sabers as if they were old friends.

His eyes rested on me briefly, narrowed, and then he continued his casual look-around as if he hadn’t seen me, while my pulse raced like an Olympic sprinter. Was he going to sell me out to the Sabers? Or did he simply figure this was too public a place to take me down? Either way, I knew the risk for Jane had abruptly shot up.

“Congresswoman Pennington,” I heard him say. “It’s a pleasure to see you, as always.”

“Mr. Archer,” Jane replied. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Is Pietro here as well?”

“No, ma’am, he’s not,” Brian said. “I’m up here on my own.”

Nicole looked from Brian to Jane. “Pietro Ivanov?” She tilted her head, smiled. “Oh, yes, I remember seeing something about you two dating. What a shame he couldn’t be here. The chef they brought in for this event is outstanding.”

Jane looked as if she wanted to press Brian for details about what was going on, but she simply gave Nicole a bland smile. “Yes, we’ve been dating for a while. Don’t you remember? We ran into you at the Gourmet Gala in Louisiana.” Then she lifted a hand and made a dismissive gesture. “But I can understand if it slipped your mind. I’m sure you have far more pressing worries than remembering the details of a random congresswoman’s social life.” Jane’s smile remained fixed and her eyes hard on the other woman. The “worries” was no doubt a reference to Saberton’s money troubles. It was clear Jane didn’t care for Nicole Saber one stinking bit.

Nicole’s hand tightened on her champagne glass. “Yes, the Gala. How could I have forgotten something so unforgettable .” She jerked her attention to where her son stood silently watching the exchange. “Andrew, finish with Mr. Archer while I have a word with the congresswoman.”

Jane’s bodyguard stood a few feet behind her. I quickly moved to him, angling as best I could to be on the side away from Brian and the Sabers. “You need to get her out of here,” I told him in a low, urgent voice. “Please, trust me.”

Victor glanced at me and frowned, but to my relief he didn’t question or protest before moving to Jane’s side and touching her arm.

“The car is out front, ma’am,” he said. “You should probably leave before your headache grows worse.”

She met Victor’s eyes, then looked past him to me. I gave her my best Gah! Shit! You need to get the hell out of here ’cause there’s danger! look—but in a calm and socially acceptable way, of course.

“Thank you,” she murmured to Victor. “Yes, I should be going.” She returned her attention to Nicole. “I’m so sorry, but I’m simply not feeling well at all.”

Nicole darted a look toward Andrew and Brian, and gave Jane a smileless smile. “Certainly,” she said stiffly, clearly not at all happy to let Jane go but unable to physically stop her. “You take care of yourself. Perhaps we can do lunch tomorrow?”

“Perhaps,” Jane echoed. “Have your people call mine. Have a good evening.” And with that she turned away to allow Victor to guide her to the exit while I quietly died of relief.

Jane paused by me, leaning close and lowering her voice. “I expect you to explain all of this as soon as we’re outside.”

“Yeah, you got it,” I said with a firm nod, though my attention remained on Brian. He was watching me again, but at the moment I’d take that as a good thing since it meant he wasn’t going after Jane. I tore my gaze away from Brian long enough to check and see that yes, Jane was at the double doors and leaving, then allowed myself a brief sigh of relief. Now I simply had to get myself out of this mess.

I felt Brian’s eyes on me like a knife sliding through flesh. He was obviously up to some shit with the Sabers, but I had zero desire to stick around and confront him. Yet at the moment he was between me and the doors, which meant I needed to find another way out.

The crowd had abruptly grown thick as everyone began working their way toward the ballroom—where I most certainly did not want to go. Gut tight, I turned and started swimming upstream through a river of overdressed people in the direction of a side door. Someone stepped on my toe, and I resisted the urge to drive an elbow into their ribs to get them off me. I settled for their hasty apology, quickly lost in the chatter and music as I slipped between bodies, grateful I was slim, and even more glad I was short enough to get lost in the crowd.

Didn’t matter, as a glance behind showed Brian heading my direction. He didn’t seem to have any problem getting people out of his way without making a scene. I tripped on the hem of my skirt, seized it up while cursing the stupid heels and barely avoided crashing into a tittering woman. I finally made it to the side door and burst through it, then had to stop for a second to get my bearings and figure out where the hell I was.

Restrooms. And down at the end of the hall was a sweet and glorious EXIT sign. I still couldn’t run without attracting a bunch of attention, and I certainly didn’t want to risk being stopped by security, but I did a goddamn Olympic speed walk in my pretty, sparkly shoes toward that sign.

Less than ten feet from the exit I heard a door open behind me, accompanied by a brief outpouring of music along with voices and polite laughter. A quick glance back as I hit the bar of the exit door confirmed it was Brian, and right before I slammed the door behind me I saw him start my way. A quick look around told me I was on the deserted sidestreet near the sewer worksite I’d seen earlier, and nowhere near where I was supposed to come out, which meant that none of my people were anywhere around. I knew I only had seconds before Brian caught up with me, and I used two to kick off the shoes then pelted barefoot toward the main street.