Page 89 of VOGUEish

“You are? Why? I’ve thought of you as a traitor. You should hate me. I’m the worst best friend ever.”

“Nonsense. You’re the best best friend ever. You simply have had too much stress.”

Isabella wiggled her nose and sniffed.

“No tears. We don’t have time for tears,” Chloe said. “Ms. Birdie called me the morning it all went down and hired my services. Let me just tell you, I set her damn straight on her belief you had leaked the information.”

Isabella rubbed her arms. “I don’t think even you can spin this into something rosy.”

“We need a couple of beers over here,” Chloe hollered. “And if any of you are any good at undercover work, get over here. We’ve got some digging to do.”

Isabella placed her hand on her stomach. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear seasick turtles had taken up occupancy in her midsection.

Lefty and Mad Dog pulled up chairs to the end of their table.

“Ladies, what can we help you with?” Mad Dog said. “I’m a homicide detective. Lefty has other skills we can’t mention.”

“They allow law enforcement types into gangs?” Isabella looked from one to the other. Now that they were grinning, they didn’t look nearly as scary.

“We’re America’s Guardians.” Lefty pointed to an emblem on his leather vest.

Chloe giggled. “I love your accent. Tell me more.” She pulled out her phone.

“We’re a biker gang that consists of cops, ex-cops, retired cops, military, and other law sorts who keep America safe for lovelies like you.” Lefty replied in a very serious tone but then ruined it by looking at Chloe’s breasts.

Isabella laughed. It felt good to laugh. She had no idea if they were telling the truth, but she liked them. “Don’t flirt with Lefty,” she said to Chloe. “He tried to shake me down for fifty dollars just to have a seat.”

“The money would have gone to a charity we fundraise for all year,” Mad Dog explained. “He wouldn’t have taken your money without giving you the option of saying no.”

Another man walked up to their table. “I understand you little ladies are in need of some help?”

“Zeus, you’re a day late and a dollar short,” Mad Dog said. “I think we’ve got this covered.”

Zeus looked Isabella and Chloe over. “Ladies, let me know if they’re not up to the task.” He turned to walk away, but then turned back. “Oh, and Lefty’s full of shit. Mad Dog you can trust.”

Isabella’s phone vibrated. She ignored it. There wasn’t another person she could think of that she wanted to talk to tonight.

She was peopled out.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Three nights later, Isabella attended the annual awards banquet for the magazine industry. Tonight, the winner of the cover contest would be announced.

She sat at a table with the others from the design committee. So far, she’d made it through the awards dinner with a smile on her face and intelligent conversation flowing from her lips. The men were dressed in tuxes and the women in glamorous gowns.

Isabella’s gown, a refurbished Bob Mackie, had once been worn by Cher. On her feet were her lucky heels. She needed all the luck she could get at this point in her life.

Frankie Peterson, wearing all black, was in attendance as their future fearless leader. A woman who’d been terrorizing the table all evening.

When Frankie got up to go and chat with those from Vogue, Isabella’s table went quiet. They all felt sorry for her because they thought she had a thing for Chandler, who was now despised by New Yorkers for hurting Anonymous in NYC.

At the other tables, though, there was plenty of whispering, snickering, and pointing.

“And now to the announcement of Cover of the Year,” the MC of the red-carpet event said.

Isabella’s gaze snapped to the stage. She took a breath. It wasn’t full. She hadn’t been able to take a full breath since last Friday night. The text in the bar that night had been a second from Chandler saying he was sorry. She’d happily texted back. Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.

Lefty and Mad Dog had been in touch. Said they’d made a few discoveries and were taking care of the Pillar matter. Amanda had outed him. She’d placed a cloning device on Isabella’s phone. The bitch! According to Mad Dog, Isabella wasn’t to do or say anything to Amanda until further notice. Which made it freaking hard to sit in the same room with her. She apparently had accepted a position with Style Road.

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