Page 71 of Nothing More

Raven flipped a hand in dismissal. “By mysterious men in masks, yes, and apparently the police are no closer to figuring out who they were – whichshould bethe thing worrying Blaire Blanchard right now. Some fifty girls were immediately out of work the moment Nikola – and her primary shareholder in the business – got themselves killed at what was, I’m sure you’ve heard, the most unsavory of auctions.”

He winced, and nodded.

“No one deserves to be out of work at the holidays. I took in the models that I could, and the others wound up at different agencies. I’m afraid I fail to see why anything about my behavior isconcerning.”

“I know. Believe me, I understand.” He shook his head. “It’s Donovan worrying about Blaire’s contribution, honestly.” His tone shifted to one more casual; his posture dropped. He was confiding in her now, going off the record. “If you ask me, she’s more trouble than she’s worth, her whole list of demands.” He rolled his eyes. “I told Donovan that it wasn’t fair to let her malign you that way, to even suggest that you’d done anything scandalous, but I think he’s placating her because she’s more difficult to deal with than you.”

She stared at him.

“I’ll talk with Donovan again,” he said in a rush, and offered a smile. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

“I’m sure we can.” At this point for Raven, it was about pride. Did she care about participating in Donovan Smith’s rubbish gala? No. It wouldn’t boost her social credit, and she wasn’t worried about the eventual, formal launch of the Jardin Designs line. But if anyone found out she’d been asked tostep backfrom the gala, that an heiress hadconcernsabout her suitability…if anyone so much as breathed Nikola Howard’s name the same moment as hers…thatwould be damaging. She was committed now, whether she liked it or not; would be forced to fight for her place in the event, even if that fight turned ugly.

Brilliant. Just what she needed. Thank you very much, Donovan.

“I’ll talk to him,” Greg said again, less formally, head tilting to an earnest angle.

She allowed herself to soften, fractionally; to meet his energy at least partway. “I would appreciate that.”

The door opened with a click, and in trooped Cassandra with all the unintentional grace of a leggy teenager. Floppy hair, and crooked uniform tie, bright backpack, and falling-down stockings with a run up one calf, fresh-faced and beautiful in a way that she couldn’t appreciate when she looked in the mirror, a flower bud swelled with potential, ready to bloom.

She looked soyoungto Raven in that moment. She was growing up, yes, no longer innocent, no longer a child. But seeing her at moments like these, unguarded, her entrance a distraction that left Raven looking at her through fresh eyes, Raven was filled with terror. It was a big, scary world out there, full of all sorts of monsters. She wanted to roll her little sister up in cotton batting and lock her away.

Straight off, on impulse, Raven glanced toward Greg, wanting to catch him if he was ogling a seventeen-year-old. But he looked at Cass with nothing but curiosity; she couldn’t detect so much as a trace of lecherous appreciation.

The knot that had formed in her belly loosened a fraction.

Cassandra slung her bag to the foot of the chair beside Raven’s and then slumped down into it, one leg kicked over an arm. “Ian had to run,” she said, voice laced with disappointment. “Which is bollocks, because he promised all the way here that he’d help us get a tree tonight, and then he had to scarper off talking about some meeting he didn’t have ten minutes ago.” She huffed. “If we don’t get one now, we’ll be left with the rubbish ones that already look dead.”

Belatedly, she turned her head, and her blue eyes widened when she realized they weren’t alone. “Oh.” Thankfully, proving Raven had managed to instillsomesocial graces, she pulled her leg down, planted both feet flat on the floor, and sat up primly, if more than a little self-consciously. She hadn’t yet mastered Raven’s air of “I meant to do that,” and fidgeted with the hem of her uniform skirt like the awkward girl she still was. “Hi.”

Greg’s smile was – lucky for his sake – engaged, but not eager, friendly, but not too friendly. “Hello. You must be Raven’s sister.”

“Cassandra, yeah,” Cass said. She arched a lone brow in a clear imitation that both filled Raven with pride, and left her biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “And you are?”

His smile widened a fraction in amusement. He offered a hand across the table. “Greg Ingles. I’m working with your sister on a charity Christmas gala.”

Essentially the truth, Raven thought. Truthful enough she wasn’t going to argue with him openly about it.

Cassandra made him wait a moment, inspected his hand before she leaned forward and took it. “Cassandra Green.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Yes,” Cass said, simply, as she drew back.

Raven stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on something, quickly.”

Cass sent her a cleardon’t leave me alone with this lame knoblook.

Raven said, “Cassandra, maybe Greg would like to hear about the art exhibit you’re having after the New Year.” She traded a fast look with Shep, who stood against the wall, watching them with the intensity of a bouncer, and the subtlety of a chainsaw; he was never going to wear a suit like he was meant for it, no matter how finely it was tailored, but he was at least being quiet today, and she had to acknowledge progress, no matter how small. She nodded at him.You’re in charge. Then went out to see if she could catch Ian before he left the agency.

He and Bruce had made it all the way to the elevators, a phone held to his ear, checking his watch while his man waited behind him like a tableau from an old, elegant magazine. He glanced up at her approach, said, “I’ll call you back,” into the phone, and greeted her with a puzzled grin when she reached him. “Hello. I thought I was being kicked out.”

“Greg Ingles is in my office, and he was going on about our shoot – well, Jean-Jacque’s shoot.”

“Ah.”

“Best not to encourage the connecting of dots if we can help it.”

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