come?”
Caleb knocked back the rest of his drink. “Hard pass.”
“Fine. But try not to make anyone else sick, okay?”
“No promises.” Caleb scanned the room as Jason walked away, a restless itch burrowing under his skin and causing him to shift from one foot to the other.
Next year he was going to find a concrete excuse not to come to this bloody thing. Nothing was worth standing around being bored out of his skull to keep his father happy. Why bother? It wasn’t like it would make a difference in the long run, anyway.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a woman looking at him. Putting on his most charming smile, he headed toward her. If the company wasn’t up to scratch, all he had to do was find new company.
IMOGEN MOVED THROUGH the crowded ballroom, looking for the man with the golden mask. Was this how a glamorous spy in an old-school Bond movie felt? It was the most excitement she’d had for some time.
Excitement isn’t what you’re looking for, remember? You want reliability, security. Comfort.
She rolled her eyes behind her mask. It was a little disconcerting that her ideal life situation sounded like an ad for a Maxi Pad. Or a nursing home.
But she’d had excitement before. She’d had the wild thrill of an electric, charismatic man sweeping her off her feet and filling her head with false promises. A guy who flew in and out of her life as he pleased, drama and chaos nipping at his heels. It was exhilarating to be wanted by a man who could have anyone, sure. But it was also exhausting, stressful and left her heart shattered into a billion jagged pieces.
In other words, excitement was not all it was cracked up to be. Which was why she needed to focus on her mission.
Then she spotted him. The gold mask gleamed under the twinkling light of the grand chandelier. The design left part of his jaw free, and showed some of the styled hair at the back of his head. Imogen squinted. She hadn’t remembered Daniel’s hair being quite so fair, but he could have dyed it. It wouldn’t surprise her—the guy did get weekly manicures after all. He was also looking more trim than usual, but her sister had mentioned something about them being on a prewedding diet. No carbs or some such craziness.
She made her way forward, heading toward a waiter who was standing near Daniel and the man he was talking to. Smiling, she accepted a flute of champagne and took a delicate sip. Up close, the masked man looked broader and more athletic than she remembered of her future brother-in-law. Imogen bit down on her lip. He had said his mask was one of a kind, so this must be him. But something didn’t seem quite right.
“Oh my, I love your dress.” A woman in a long blue ball gown came over to get a closer look at Imogen’s borrowed outfit.
Grateful for the chance to better blend in, Imogen positioned herself so she was in earshot of the man in the golden mask. As the other woman started talking about designers and ball gowns, Imogen strained to listen to the conversation between the two men beside her.
“...you simply have no idea how difficult the wedding folks are. The silver and gold clashes, my good chum. It clashes terribly.” The man made a gesture with his hands, rolling them at the wrists. She’d recognise it anywhere. It was hard to hear what Daniel’s companion was saying, as he was farther away. “Penny and I are delighted to be married and everything must be perfect for my darling ball and chain.”
Penny. Imogen breathed a sigh of relief. She’d let it slide that he’d referred to her sister as a “ball and chain” for the moment. At least she knew she had her man.
“Don’t you think?” the woman in the blue ball gown asked. Oops! She’d been too busy eavesdropping to know how to respond. “I mean,” the woman continued, “I know they predicted last year that cerulean was going to be all the rage, but I rather prefer navy. It’s much more elegant.”
“I totally agree.” Imogen bobbed her head and took a sip of her champagne.
By the time she turned her head back to Daniel, he’d started walking away. Imogen smiled and made an interested mmm-hmm sound so the woman in the blue dress would keep talking.
“But we decided to go with this shade because it’s in the middle. Fashionable but still elegant, because I don’t want to be completely off-trend...”
Daniel stopped in front of a woman in a full-skirted dress in a vibrant pattern that looked like it could have been lifted directly from an Impressionist painting. Her mask was elaborately designed, with lace and ribbon in shades of soft pink, purple and yellow.
“But I mean this is the biggest event of the year. One must step out of their comfort zone.”
“Absolutely,” Imogen said, her eyes fixed on her brother-in-law as he chatted to the woman in the stunning dress.
Perhaps this was the blonde she’d seen him with at the bar a few weeks back. Between the mask and full-skirted gown, it was impossible to tell. But then he reached down and grabbed her hand, slipping his fingers between hers. It was an intimate gesture. Definitely not the kind of thing two strangers did.
Bile rushed up the back of her throat. Poor Penny. She was so in love with Daniel and here he was acting like she meant nothing at all—and after talking about her moments earlier, no less. Imogen drained the rest of her champagne and excused herself from the conversation with the woman in the blue dress.
Daniel might think he could keep someone on the side, but Imogen wouldn’t allow it. The memories rushed back—of finding her husband’s dating profile on a site specially for people wanting extramarital affairs. Counting the women he’d agreed to meet with...one, two, ten. Fifteen. More. He hadn’t even tried to deny it.
That one time she had used the F-word.
Daniel and the mystery woman made their way to the courtyard, heads bowed. His companion smiled, her perfect white teeth practically sparkling like in those cheesy toothpaste ads. Imogen could almost hear the ping sound-effect. Ugh.
Her stomach churned and a wave of uneasiness washed over her. How was she going to break the news to her big sister? Penny was so optimistic and caring and kind. The wedding was her whole world right now and this would shatter everything.
But what was the alternative? Letting her sister walk down the aisle with a guy who didn’t deserve her? Letting her have that sickening moment of discovering betrayal?
No. That couldn’t happen.
Imogen flagged down another waiter and snagged a glass of champagne. She hovered at the edge of the ballroom and kept her eyes on Daniel. It wouldn’t do to get too close in case they spotted her. If she spooked him now, there might not be another chance. Holding her champagne flute in one hand, she used her other hand to fish her phone out of her evening bag. Photographic evidence, that was what she needed.
Once he and the mystery woman walked into the courtyard and rounded a corner, Imogen set off again. The string quartet played a lively piece of music and people flocked to the dance floor. Judging by all the giggling and the unsteady way some women tottered in their heels, the circulating
