beer, the taste bitter on his tongue.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what happened with Neila.” Gerald pierced him with a gloomy stare. He and Jason had the same irises—light, nearly colourless. Eyes that gave nothing away. “She was a valued member of our team until you interfered.”
And by “interfered” he meant having a relationship with the woman, one that was supposed to be meaningful until he found out that she was using him to climb the ranks at work.
The memory shot through him like a bullet. He’d come back to the office to surprise her with flowers and a fancy dinner reservation. Neila’s voice had floated down the empty office corridor, her snide tone cutting him to the bone as she told someone he was her second choice. She’d wanted Jason because he would have given her a more solid foothold within the company. But at least Caleb was a good fuck. The way she’d laughed had shredded him into a million jagged little pieces.
Rather than admit that humiliation to anyone, he’d let his family assume he’d dumped her because he’d gotten bored.
“She didn’t have to leave,” Caleb drawled as he dropped into a seat next to his mother. “That was her call.”
As usual, his mother averted her eyes. Such was her role in every family argument. That was where she differed from Caleb. She’d let his father’s domineering personality water her down over the years. The boring car out front wasn’t her style, nor was their sleek modern mansion. His mother was a free spirit who loved colour and texture and clutter. But Gerald had pressed down on her until he’d squeezed the vibrancy out, until he’d moulded her into a version of his first wife—Jason’s mother.
But Caleb wouldn’t ever let that happen to him. He’d continue to bug the shit out of his father with his flashy car and too-loud socks and his refusal to be a carbon copy of Jason.
“You know what,” he said, leaning back and taking another long pull on his beer. “Maybe I will ask Imogen out. Practice makes perfect, right? Let’s see if I can get this one to last a whole month.”
His father glared at him. “If you don’t take anything seriously, how do you expect anyone to take you seriously?”
He’d wanted that at one point—willed it to happen by working as hard as he could in everything from soccer to biology to Scouts. But nothing had ever been good enough. He’d always be tarnished with the label of “unwanted.” Unplanned. He was the son who wasn’t supposed to exist. A product of the trophy wife who’d stepped outside of the bounds of their agreement by refusing to terminate her pregnancy.
“I take myself seriously, Dad. That’s good enough for me.”
An awkward quiet settled over the table as Luis delivered the food. The clack of cutlery against porcelain echoed against the house’s high ceiling, highlighting how little they all had to say. Caleb kept his expression neutral, even as his mother patted his arm out of sight of her husband.
Show no weakness, that was his motto. People like his father would only win if they got to see how much their words stung. And no matter what happened, Caleb would rot in hell before he gave them such satisfaction.
IF IMOGEN WAS going to do something as outrageous as gate-crashing the Carmina Masquerade Ball, then she was going to make sure she’d thought of everything. Each step of her plan had been meticulously combed through. Including how she’d convinced the head of the catering company to let her and her best friend, Lainey, pose as staff members to gain entry, in exchange for putting the company on the “preferred suppliers list” at work. She’d even studied the venue, Patterson House, by taking the online virtual tour to better understand the layout of the heritage-listed estate and ensure that she and Lainey would have a place to slip out of their catering uniforms and into their ball gowns without getting caught.
This was how she’d come to be walking along a secluded path, wearing a borrowed gown with a mask covering her face.
Tonight was exactly the distraction she needed after the incident with Caleb in the archive room. Any time her mind veered in the direction of what might’ve happened if they weren’t interrupted, she’d bring her focus back to “Operation Catch a Cheater.”
Everything was in place. Her dress was dark and vampy with panels of black lace and glossy black silk, allowing glimpses of bare legs, arms and back. It was sexy with a capital S and impossibly removed from her usual style, which was exactly why she’d chosen this dress over the dozens of others that were more muted or quietly elegant.
Her jewelled mask disguised her identity by covering the top half of her face from hairline to nose, and she’d opted for a dark plummy stain on her lips. Even her nails—which she always wore bare—were painted in an inky polish that shifted from navy to onyx in the light.
The devil is in the details.
Imogen walked carefully along the path that ran the length of Patterson House, where the Carmina Ball was hosted each year. The stately old building was something that would have made her stop and stare on any other day. But this evening was a different story.
Pausing at the corner which would lead her to the courtyard, she turned to look back at her friend. Lainey’s disguise was perfect—she’d recently dyed her hair a bright flame red. That coupled with her mask made her look like a totally new person. She had her own reasons for wanting to sneak into the ball, and had begged Imogen to let her tag along. Trouble loved company, right? Or was that misery? Imogen flashed Lainey a thumbs-up and got one in return. This was it. Time to get the show on the road.
Imogen fussed with the front of her dress, checking all the areas she’d stuck down to her skin with special skin-safe adhesive tape. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally flash anyone.
In fact, despite the sexier-than-sin dress she didn’t want to stand out at all. There were two reasons for that. One, she didn’t want to talk too much and risk Daniel catching her out. Two, she didn’t technically have an invite.
Okay, so that wasn’t a technicality. She didn’t—and would likely never—receive an invite to this event. The Carmina Ball was for rich people who could afford the five grand ticket price. For people like her future brother-in-law and his family, who enjoyed attending events which excluded the average person, like Imogen and her sister.
Penny hadn’t received an invite, either, and yet Daniel was going to be here. Why? That was what she was going to find out.
The thought of catching Daniel cheating on Penny made her stomach churn. It was one of those cases where finding out she was right wouldn’t make her feel any better. But for her sister’s sake, she had to know. There was no way in hell she’d let Penny go through that experience.
Imogen cringed as the memories assaulted her—the ghosts of old feelings like shame and despair that came back to life whenever she thought of her ex.
Not now. This isn’t the time for pity.
Sucking in a breath, she walked into the courtyard with her shoulders squared and her head held high, like there was no question of her belonging.
“Relax,” she said to herself. “All you have to do is blend in with the crowd. You’re good at that.”
