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The conference room exploded with a flurry of Christmas trees and fake snow. Tables that habitually occupied the room's center during meetings were only along the sides, offering festive refreshments.
Clary had nixed the usual orchestra in favor of a DJ, who would take up less space.
The room was packed. Men in debonair tuxes guided women in gowns of every shade—from glittering red to deepest sapphire—across the floor to the sound of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”
They’d started the ball without me, but that was all right. It wasn’t as though I’d been on time.
I stalked past the refreshment tables, taking in the fountains dripping with melted chocolate and piles of fat strawberries just waiting to be dipped, the mouthwatering eclairs, the chocolate-covered pretzels, mini sandwiches, and drinks the color of cranberries.
I released a low whistle even I couldn’t hear. Clary had really gone all out for this.
I spotted her near the DJ and speakers in a black dresswith a clipboard under one arm and a finger pressed to her ear and strolled along the sidelines toward her. Her red hair was in an elegant bun on the back of her head.
“Clary, you look wonderful. And you’ve done an incredible job with this tonight.”
“Thanks, boss,” she said. “So far, so good. You want to say a few words?”
I ran a hand along my neck and glanced across the gathered dancers. “Not now. In a bit.”
“You looking for someone?”
“Maybe.” I flashed her a grin.
Clary nodded as if she understood. I wasn’t sure she did.
Then again, I had left enough clues. Maybe she pieced a few things together. I searched the room again, as I’d been doing since I arrived.
I looked for the brunette who’d snared me in Montana, who’d helped me survive a too-long and yet not-long-enough spurt in an elevator, who was making me rethink what I thought I knew.
While I wished I could have been with her, I agreed with Faye. I wanted to see the transformation when she arrived. Which should be any minute.
My cell phone vibrated from within my suitcoat pocket.
I slipped out into the hall, out of range of the speakers and their festive music. I doubted I could have heard the caller otherwise.
“Hey, sis,” I said, noting her name on my screen. “What’s up?”
“Sorry,” Gemma said. “I know you’re at your ball, but I wanted to give you an update.”
I didn’t like the caution in her tone. “Is everything okay for tomorrow?”
Gemma hesitated long enough to give me pause. “Do you want the good news first or the bad?”
“Always good,” I said.
She exhaled loudly. “All right. You’re all set with the hospital. I got a few volunteers to set up tables, including shelves to display your goods and a little cash register for the children to use to exchange their tokens for candy. Those kids are in for a treat when they wake up.”
This was exactly what I wanted. “Perfect. It’s so amazing of you to help me last minute like this, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Anything for my big brother.”
“And the bad news?”
“I didn’t find anyone to man the register, the counter—anything. Everyone has plans, Hawk. It’s Christmas. You’re on your own to handle your little transactions with the kids.”
The news wasn’t as hard of a hit as I’d expected. Sure, it would be a challenge to help fifty-something kids, some in wheelchairs, manage their way through my stash and playStorewith them as they pretend-paid for their goods.
I could probably pay people the way I had for the salon and dress shop. Even on Christmas Eve, people would step up to the plate if you attached dollar signs to it.
