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One
This was a bad idea, but no one seemed to realize it but Lauren.
Everyone else in her life was thrilled that she’d won the local radio contest that awarded her a glamorous makeover, limo transportation and tickets for two to the charity masquerade ball at the Texas Cattleman’s Club. She was less excited by the news because, in all honesty, Lauren Roberts was not the kind of person to enter a contest like that. It was even called the Cinderella Sweepstakes. How over the top was that? Like she was going to meet her Prince Charming out on the dance floor or something. The last time she’d stepped foot in this building, it had been a nightmare, not a dream come true.
No, she had no interest in going to that party or hanging out with those people at the club. Unfortunately, she’d been entered by her well-meaning friend and employee Amy without her knowledge. The next thing she knew, she was spending a normally lucrative Saturday at a day spa. She should’ve been with one of her food trucks downtown. She was always at one of her food trucks, but she supposed that was the point Amy was trying to make by entering her in the contest.
So, she had no social life. It didn’t bother her. She had two successful food trucks and a booming career as a chef. That was more important to her. Spending a day getting steam facials, manicures and highlights in her hair was a waste of time and money to Lauren. In her day-to-day life, none of that mattered. Her dark brown hair was always back in a bun, where no one would see the caramel highlights that were added. She got plenty of steam facials from the hot water trays in the trucks that kept food warm. And no one would see pretty nails when she was wearing food service gloves.
The whole thing was preposterous, but in the end she’d agreed to go. Because, like it or not, if she wanted to get a permanent location in Royal, Texas, and build a high-end clientele, she needed to spend more time with the kind of people that frequented the club. With that in mind, she’d put on the bright red dress that was chosen for her by the personal shopper for the contest, tied on her mask and hoped for the best.
Everyone had told her to enjoy herself. Have fun. Make the most of her night off without worrying about whether one of the trucks ran out of supplies or if Javier, the line cook, made the nightly deposit. Amy had things under control, but letting go was hard to do. It would require some alcohol. But she could do it. And deep down, Lauren knew she needed to do it.
This wasn’t high school anymore. She could go to this party and have a good time. With the ornate mask she was wearing, she could even pretend to be someone else tonight. No one would expect mousy, workaholic chef Lauren Roberts to be at the club anyway. She didn’t belong here. But the mysterious woman in red—she could fit in...and have an amazing time this evening.
She just had to get out of the damn limo.
The driv
er had been standing patiently with the door open for quite a while now, waiting for Lauren to step out. At this point, she was probably causing a traffic jam.
“Ma’am?” he asked at last, with concern lining his face.
“Yes, sorry.” Lauren snatched up her black, beaded clutch and forced herself out of the limousine. She took a step up the stairs to the grand entrance and stopped again. It looked very different from what she remembered, but it had been eleven years since she’d been to the club. While appearances had changed both for her and the building itself, the feelings it roused in her were the same: excitement followed quickly by anxiety and a touch of dread.
She turned to see if her getaway car was still available, but the driver and the limo were down the road already. Another car had pulled up and was unloading a crowd of people that would swallow her up if she didn’t move. Nowhere to go but forward to face her fears.
Lauren lifted the hem of her slinky red gown and climbed the steps to the entrance. At the door, a table was set up to collect tickets for the event.
“Tickets, ma’am?” the man sitting at the table asked. He was wearing a tuxedo with a Guy Fawkes mask.
“My name should be on the list,” she replied. “Lauren Roberts?”
He checked a paper he had beside him. “It’s showing it’s for a party of two. Are you expecting a guest?”
“No, it’s just me tonight.” Although she’d won two tickets, her personal life was so nonexistent she couldn’t scrape together a date in time for the party. She should’ve just brought Amy, but she knew she would have clung to her best friend all night. Lauren sighed. If she was going to make the most of tonight, she needed to get out of her comfort zone and talk to strangers.
“All the better for the single gentlemen here tonight,” the man said.
Lauren couldn’t see his expression behind his mask to see if he was joking. He sounded completely serious. The makeover must’ve worked wonders. Normally, she was completely under the radar of most men in this town. Invisible. Could highlights and a glamorous dress make that big of a difference?
“I’ll see you in there later, Miss Roberts.”
She wished her mask covered her whole face so he couldn’t see the awkward blush that was no doubt creeping up beneath her foundation. “Thank you,” she stammered and rushed past him into the club when no other valid response came to mind.
As she stepped through the doorway, the sound of music, laughter and voices called to her. She went down the hall, passing the office and the daycare center she didn’t remember being there before, and then stopped short as it opened up into the main room.
It was a lot like the last time she’d come. Dark lighting, loud music, a sea of bodies on the dance floor and loitering around the edges of the room. The difference was that these weren’t teenagers at a dance. They were adults. Rich ones. The kind that could invest in her restaurant, or at the very least become patrons someday. They weren’t going to play cruel pranks or laugh at her. They were just having a good time and raising money for charity. She needed to just blend in and have a good time, too.
The last thought propelled her forward.
“May I take your coat?” a younger girl asked as she manned the coat check.
Lauren slipped out of her leather jacket and handed it over. It didn’t exactly go with the red, beaded gown anyway, but October had brought an unexpected chill to the air. It was early for Texas, but she’d take it. Fall was her favorite time of year. She got to experiment with new seasonal flavors on the truck menus, find a pumpkin patch to explore, hand out candy to trick-or-treaters...and she wasn’t dying from the heat in the trucks each day.
She wanted a permanent storefront for her restaurant, even if just for the air-conditioning. When she was parked at a location, a generator would run some things, but not air. In the summer, that meant hot food, steamy trays and no respite from the heat, short of sticking her head in the refrigerator.
