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She took the coat check ticket from the girl and slipped it into her clutch. Scanning the room, she noticed the large, centralized bar and decided that should be her first stop. A drink would give her something to do with her hand, and if it loosened her up, all the better.
Nervously adjusting her Mardi Gras–style mask, Lauren took a deep breath and headed to the bar. She ordered a dirty martini with extra olives and scoped out a dark corner where she could stand and do a little people-watching until she felt more comfortable.
She’d never been to one of these charity galas at the club before. These kinds of parties were for rich ranching families to mingle and make nice tax deductions. A food truck chef normally didn’t have the time, energy or cash for something like this. As it was, she was already wincing at the cost of her drink. She supposed an open bar would cut too much into the charity’s bottom line.
Most of the people there didn’t seem to care. She’d overheard the man next to her at the bar tell the server to put it on his membership tab. A lot of others seemed to be doing that, too. The room was nearly filled to capacity with men in tuxedos and black Stetsons, women in sparkling gowns with ornately decorated masks. All of them had a cocktail in hand and a smile on their faces. At least, smiles on what you could see of their faces.
Masks were required for the event. At least, that was what the invitation said. Some wore smaller ones, Lone Ranger–style, which met the requirement, but you could still know who you were speaking to. She recognized a few people from around town even with them on. Others, like the man at the door, were wearing full-face masks. Lauren had opted for something in the middle, a black metal mask with ornate swirls cut out of it, that ended halfway down her face. It offered a little anonymity, but she didn’t have to remove it to drink or eat.
And, as her meddling friend Amy had suggested, she wouldn’t have to remove it to kiss, either.
Amy—ever the optimist when it came to Lauren’s nonexistent love life. As though a new dress and a mask were enough for Lauren to fall into the strong arms of a dark, anonymous stranger.
Speaking of which, movement out of the corner of her gaze caught Lauren’s attention. When she turned to look, she spied a tall drink of water heading toward her empty corner. He was wearing a beautifully tailored black tuxedo with a distinctive pewter wolf mask that brought out the platinum highlights in his cropped blond hair. All she could make out of his face was the hard square of his stubble-covered jaw and the flat line of displeasure that would otherwise be his mouth. The wolf wasn’t having a good time tonight.
He wasn’t looking at her. He had a cell phone pressed to one ear and his hand covering the other. If he was seeking privacy and quiet, he was out of luck. He glanced up at her for a moment, immediately dismissing her as he focused on his call and settled in the chair nearby.
Lauren wasn’t about to give up her space to the big, bad wolf. She’d found it first. Perhaps she would venture out into the crowd in a moment, but she was only three sips into her twelve-dollar martini and she wasn’t feeling bold enough quite yet.
But soon. She could feel the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her veins like the social lubricant that it was. Soon.
* * *
Sutton Wingate tried to check his troubles at the door tonight and have a good time, but they had still managed to follow him inside. Considering how things had gone the last few weeks, he wasn’t sure why he was surprised.
When the accusations against his family had cropped up, he had been the optimistic one. As the CFO of Wingate Enterprises, he would know if there was embezzling and drug smuggling happening behind the scenes. There wasn’t. It was just rumors fueled by jealousy and spite, and he was confident that eventually it would all blow over. He’d believed it right until the moment the Feds froze their assets, seized the ranch and put the whole family out on their asses.
Now he wasn’t feeling so optimistic.
So far, everyone had la
nded on their feet. He and his twin, Sebastian, had decided to rent a house together. Luke and Ezekiel found places to stay. And his mother, Ava, was staying with Keith Cooper, a fact that no doubt pleased “Uncle” Keith. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but they would persevere until they found out who was responsible for setting them up and their lives were returned to normal.
He thought losing the money and the family home would be the hardest thing to go through. At least until he walked through the door tonight.
His wolf mask did enough to hide his identity. If anyone suspected he might be a Wingate, they probably weren’t sure if he was Sutton or Sebastian. But judging by the way people were gossiping about his family’s scandal with him so nearby, no one knew who he was. He supposed that they didn’t think the Wingates were bold enough to show up after everything that had happened. However, if they thought that, they clearly didn’t know the Wingate family.
They were innocent and they would continue to act that way despite what others thought. Close friends seemed to be on Sutton’s side, but he was stunned by how many “friends” had turned on them. He’d lost his job, his board position, his home... He’d even had to sell his collection of sports cars to have money to live on while the legal debacle carried on. He needed those friends now, more than ever. And they were drying up like a desert creek bed.
Sutton had been hoping for some good news when his phone rang not long after arriving at the party. It was his attorney. Unfortunately, all his lawyer had to say was that he’d been unable to find a buyer for one of his cars and they might have to go to auction. He would lose money doing that, so he had to decide if he would live on what he had or if he had to cut his losses to make it through the financial tight spot they were in.
He wouldn’t consider himself poor—he didn’t expect anyone to cry for him because he only had one luxury sports car—but they certainly had stripped away a lot of the extravagances they were used to. He had plenty of investments tucked away, they all did, but cash was another matter. The team of lawyers they had working for them was funneling away everyone’s money as quickly as they could come up with it.
Proving their innocence didn’t come cheap.
“Just hold out a few more days. Maybe we’ll get a buyer. I’ve got to go,” Sutton said. Getting his long-winded attorney off the phone wasn’t always so easy. When he finally succeeded, he slipped his phone into his breast pocket and sighed in dismay.
He could go rejoin the festivities and run the risk of hearing more ugly talk about his family. But at the moment, he had to say he was far more interested in the curvy brunette standing nearby. The red, beaded gown she’d chosen for the party clung to every hill and valley of her body and, at the moment, he was very grateful for the distraction.
If there was one thing Sutton appreciated more than the purring engine of an Italian sports car, it was women. Tall, short, thin, curvy...he had a fondness for them all. And with all the recent family drama, he hadn’t had the time or energy to properly enjoy the opposite sex. The sultry brunette beside him was enough to remind him he was a man, not a machine, and he couldn’t go on punishing himself forever.
At least tonight, he didn’t have to be Sutton Wingate—scandal-plagued playboy and suspected drug trafficker. He wouldn’t have to see the light of interest fade from a woman’s eyes as she realized that the handsome man she was chatting with might very well have a one-way ticket to federal prison on the horizon. He was just a hungry wolf on the prowl for a tasty treat, just like Little Red Riding Hood here.
With a boost of confidence he hadn’t felt in weeks, Sutton got up from his seat. He moved toward the woman, noticing that her glass was almost empty. “Are you on your way to your granny’s house, Red?” he asked from just over her shoulder.
The woman turned to look at him and he was instantly struck by the curious, dark brown gaze that raked over him. The golden centers of her irises highlighted the movement even as the rest of her face was hidden from him. He waited on pins and needles for her response, hoping he would pass her inspection.
Her full, ruby lips smirked at him at last. “What big eyes you have,” she said, playing along with his pick-up line.
