Page 7 of Conrad

“I feel like you should be wearing a little halo.”

He glanced at her. “Please stop.”

“What? I heard this year’s calendar sales are through the roof. Tia is over the moon.”

“Tia?” They started up the stairs. She held up her dress with one hand, wishing she’d worn her Converse.

Of course, then her mother would have had a stroke, so there was that.

“My sister. She heads up the event every year and runs the foundation. So she’s a big fan. You can sign her arm or something.”

He rolled his eyes.

She’d glanced back, into the crowd below.Shoot,no sign of Anton Beckett, although she’d only seen a picture of him. Still, narrow face, dark hair, sort of a pinched personality—she should be able to spot a conniving lawyer amidst all the athletes in the crowd.

She nearly tripped and Conrad caught her, glanced over. “You good?”

And just like that, the memory of him sweeping her into his arms to carry her up the stairs at the Kingston wedding whooshed in. He’d smelled of the woods then too, along with the breath of the crisp winter air, strong and capable, and considering she’d just nearly broken her nose, her lip fattened, and felt like she’d spent the night in a dumpster, yes, his embrace had made an impression.

Hence her crazy text later that night, inviting him to dinner. To which he hadn’t responded, sofull breath and calm down. He wasn’t into her, despite his help on the stairs. Again.

They navigated up to the third floor and stood at the entrance to the ballroom. Chandeliers hung from an arched ceiling, puddling light on the round tables that surrounded a dance floor. Blue lights, angled from the floor, turned the walls a Blue Ox blue, and the gold chairs around the tables, along with the white and blue faux votives, added a celebratory hue to the room. A DJ worked at a mixer, now playing a Maroon 5 song.

At the front, pictures of the twelve guests of honor were perched on easels with numbers and auction baskets under them. People lined up to offer bids and drop them into the baskets.

Penelope spotted her father, Oscar, wearing a black Armani suit, looking like a gray-haired Sly Stallone, talking with a group of his fellow investors, some of their faces familiar. He didn’t see her, so all things normal. However, her mother Sophia, standing in her own conversation circle, glanced her way. Elegant, with her dark hair back, wearing a shimmery blue floor-length dress, she had never seemed to wonder what her role in the Pepper family might be.

Grand matron, all-around socialite, and the woman who kept Penelope’s father grounded.

Glancing around, Penelope also spotted Tia working the crowd. Tia wore an elegant black dress, poised and perfect and everything Penelope was not.

Although, Tia had her own facade, so Penelope had no desire to switch places.

She noticed a few from the family security detail pocketed around the room too. Geoffrey, her father’s personal bodyguard, and her own shadow, Franco. But with an outside firm guarding the event as well, the private Pepper team had notched down to DEFCON 4.

Her gaze fell on a man near the front.Target acquired.Anton Beckett stood watching the bidding and holding a glass of red wine. Gray suit, white shirt, one hand in his pants pocket, the man who had the answers she needed. But wasn’t getting.Yet.

Conrad’s mouth twitched. He looked at Penelope. “Can I get you something?”

“A glass of Cab. And be sure to pick up one of those scallop avocado toast appetizers. My sister’s concoction, but they’re amazing.”

She released his arm and threaded her way through the crowd, working over to Beckett.

He glanced at her, took a drink, then looked at her again, and his eyes widened.

That’s right, buddy. I’m coming for you.

She kept a smile and glided up to him.

He stiffened. “I’m not sure what game you’re playing at, Miss Pepper?—”

So hedidknow her.Fine.“I just need to recover what Kyle already gave me.”

“It’s out of my hands?—”

“I know you share a cloud at the office. I just want the files he put on the jump drive.” Thecorruptedjump drive, the one he’d given her before he’d clearly changed his mind and tried to . . . well, who knew what he’d planned on doing when he’d shown up at the wedding and tried to drag her away.

“I just want this over.”His voice, still in her ears, right before he’d hit her. The bruises had finally faded. Butyeah, buddy,her too.

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