Page 6 of The Billionaire's Masquerade Ball

“Catch me up. Where are we with everything?”

“Patrick just gave me his list of vendors contacts to call, but other than that, everything is done. I double-checked the list you gave me and set up a day-of timeline that I can email to you. Since I won’t be there.”

Cynder knew that Gail was sharp enough not to miss the messages underneath her statements: Patrick was lazy, Cynder was doing work that both he and Gail should be doing themselves, and Cynder was mad that she wasn’t going.

“Who said anything about not going?” Gail’s lips tightened into something between a grimace and a smile.

“But your email—”

“Said that you won’t be out front. You will be attending. Just not as a guest.” Gail half-stood and handed Cynder a set of folded clothes. “This will be your uniform for the evening.”

“My what?”

“We don’t want to draw attention to all the details, do we? Looking Glass is all about presenting the perfect finished product with no visible seams. Isn’t that something your father liked to say?”

Cynder swallowed, her hands clutching the black fabric in her hands. It looked like the kind of thing servers wore at black-tie events so they wouldn’t be noticeable. Black pants, black button-down shirt. For a moment she thought of the dress Lucy had designed for her with its chameleon-like fabric that shifted from dark blue to silver as she moved with almost a metallic sheen.

Not that she minded being behind-the-scenes, as she was at so many events. She got along as well with the workers and staff at these events as she did the high-end clients. But normally she wasn’t stuck in the kitchen wearing a cocktail waitress’ uniform. She hated the way Gail twisted her father’s words and his way of running the business.

“Do we have a problem?” Gail asked.

“Not at all,” Cynder said.

“I know that you and your father preferred to play dress-up out front with the other guests, but that simply won’t do.”

Cynder tried to swallow her anger at the way Gail insulted her father. Gail’s finances couldn’t be all that great, but somehow she considered her entire family above Cynder. Why had she even married her dad?

“What time do you need me there Saturday?” Cynder asked.

“No later than one p.m.,” Gail said. “I’d advise you to wear some comfortable shoes.”

“Of course. If you don’t need anything else, I’ll get back to the list from Patrick.”

“You’re free to go,” Gail said, waving her away.

Gail acted like she was the queen of the office, ruling from behind that giant desk. Cynder fought back tears for the second time that day. If only her father were here to see what a mess Gail had made of things and how she treated Cynder. Then again, he never saw this kind of behavior before, or recognized what it was. She had no doubt that he loved Gail, even if the feeling was one-sided.

Her father had been eager for Cynder to fall in love. He even told her that he felt guilty getting married a second time when he hadn’t gotten to walk her down the aisle. But if love made you that blind to see the truth about a person’s character, Cynder would rather spend the rest of her life alone.

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