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“You look wonderful.” Probably not what she wanted to hear. She was glamour-photo-shoot gorgeous, and the words were out before he could moderate them.
“Don’t waste your time trying to charm me.”
“It’s polite conversation.” Sticking to the weather would’ve been safer territory.
“No need for that. You’ve made whatever point it was you wanted to make by showing up here. You can leave now.”
That would be the non-confrontational thing to do. “I’m not leaving.” Sometimes you had to stand your ground, break a glass, hang up a phone, disappoint a beautiful woman—again. “I’m working.”
She rejammed her hands on her hips; all it did was emphasize the tulip shape of her dress and her extreme annoyance. “Oh no you’re not. Everyone in this room is a Heroes League donor. You are not conning people here while I have breath to take,” she hissed.
“I’m not here for that. I’m gathering information.”
“Which is simply step one. If you don’t leave now, I’ll make a fuss and ensure you’re dragged out by security with your faked sterling reputation as an upstanding citizen hanging around your ankles.”
She’d do it. He leaned forward and lowered his voice to make sure there was less chance of them being overheard. “I meant what I said about Cookie Jar. I will find a way to make him pay for what he’s doing.”
Lenny frowned. Whatever she’d done to her eyes, they looked enormous and sparkled like sunshine on water. “I didn’t read the information you emailed. I have my own sources, and there’s no way I could trust yours.”
Right. In her place, he’d likely act the same way. “Could I suggest a moratorium?”
“Fancy word for you asking me to do something you want.”
“Yes, although it’s something I think—”
“You’re going to say would be good for me.”
He looked at their shoes. The tips of hers were the red to match the fire lick of color at the hem of her white skirt. Got it in one. “I find myself in a dire predicament with you, Lenny.” He met her extravagantly striking eyes. “I can’t fault your logic in not wanting to believe me, but I need you to trust me, and I don’t know how to achieve that.”
She waved a hand in the direction of the exit. “You can’t. Give up and leave.”
“I won’t do that. There’s more at stake here than D4D’s money being wrongly used.”
That lifted hand slapped to her side making her skirt sway. “Do you have any idea what’s at stake for me?” She made a shush gesture, not that he’d been tempted to interrupt. “My name was mud the moment my father was arrested. I was dropped from this scene as if I were a thief, too.” She waved her hand to encompass the room, and he was pleased they were tucked away from the majority of the guests, and no one was likely to come near. “That was two years ago. I need this event.”
“I’m sorry that happened.”
She turned her face away. “It’s not like I’m a party girl whose social life got knifed. That’s not it. I have a business to run and I need these people, the ones who go to galas and make donations. Being cut off made it impossible to run D4D. This is a reset. For my business and my family name. I can climb back. It’ll be hard work, but worth it for my mom and sister and for all the women D4D can continue to help. Nothing you said was ever going to make me give up my invitation tonight, and nothing you can say will make me trust your motives.”
He had nowhere to go with this. Lenny stood in front of him, saying nothing more, but with every swell of her chest above the heart-shaped edge of her dress and every contraction of her throat, telling him how much this m
eant to her.
The three million citizens of Ossovia, every man, woman, and child deserved a champion like Lenny and a way of getting out from under corruption.
In the main room, the band struck up. Etta James’s “At Last.”
He had nowhere to go with this except to take Sherin’s advice and try fun.
“I was going to suggest a moratorium on giving any new money to the Heroes League until I can prove to you without a shadow of a doubt that Cookie Jar is a crook. I’m going to suggest we dance instead.”
Lenny’s dangling earrings went spinning as she shook her head. “Dance?”
“I’m sure your partner won’t mind if we have one dance.”
“I’m not dancing with you.” She looked over her shoulder to where the floor was filling up. That look said I’d like to be out there, and if she’d come with a partner she wouldn’t be hesitating. There was nothing hesitant about Lenny.
“One dance, because I came alone and they’re playing the good stuff I like,” he said.
