She goggled at him, jaw dropped, eyes bugging. “But, Jesus.”
“Callendar, who is more than qualified, has the guard, is on the search. You have your connection, your link to Ricker—who isn’t going anywhere. The manhunt continues for Sandy, who you believe is probably dead anyway.”
“But—”
Roarke didn’t give an inch. “Knowing Ricker’s methods, it’s highly unlikely this guard has the names of the New York contact. You’ve narrowed it down to the squad, which was your instinct all along. And on Monday, you’ll push forward on that. Whoever this cop is, you’re smarter, and by God, more tenacious. But right now, you have a houseful of women, I have a limo waiting outside, and a group of men who are anxious to get very drunk and lose their money. It’s life.”
He took her face in his hands and kissed her. “It’s our life. We’re going to live it for the next twenty-four hours.”
“When you put it like that,” she muttered.
“Morris has gone home.”
“Oh. Damn it.”
“He said to tell you he wanted to think about you enjoying yourself for a few hours. That he felt lighter leaving here than he did when he came. I think he did, and I know he spoke to Mira for a short time before he left.”
“I guess that’s good. I guess that’s something.”
“Come on then, walk me out. Kiss me good-bye.”
Trapped, she rose. “How’d you find me in here? House scan,” she realized. “Didn’t think about that. What’s this room for anyway?”
“A guest office. You never know, obviously, when someone might need it. Good work, by the way, on the financials.”
“I don’t suppose, on the shuttle, you could—”
“No, I couldn’t,” he said, very firmly. “Tomorrow, after I get home and your guests have gone, is soon enough. We’re going to enjoy ourselves.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Yes.” He gave her a full-out, and completely unsympathetic smile. “It is.”
“There you are!” Mavis, in full party gear of a bride-white mini and knee-high skin-boots of screaming red, skipped down the hall. Her hair, the same screaming red as the boots, bounced as it tumbled to her waist. “Everyone’s asking. I was just checking on Bella. You are the maggest of the mag! The little nursery’s so cute!”
“We want Belle to be happy and comfortable whenever she visits,” Roarke told her.
Eve’s stride took yet another hitch. “You brought the baby?”
“I was going to bring a sitter, but Summerset said he’d rather be with Bellisimo than go to Vegas. The man is sugar. They’re in there now, playing with Kissy Kitty and Puppy Poo.”
Eve didn’t want to know what Kissy Kitty and Puppy Poo might be, or imagine Summerset playing with them. Or anything. She did her best to scrub any and all imagery from her mind as Mavis bubbled on.
“We are going to have the abso-mega best time. Wait till you see the decorations, the food. And the salon is completely uptown. I’m going to plant a big wet one on my honey bear, so we can get this party started.”
“What am I going to do?” Eve managed as Mavis bounded down the stairs.
“You’re going to plant a big wet one on me. After that? I’m in an alternate reality.”
There were so many of them, Eve thought, as everyone spilled outside where a limo the size of Long Island waited. She couldn’t possibly know all these people. When her head stopped ringing, she realized she didn’t. Strange faces mixed with the familiar.
The groom-to-be caught her in an enthusiastic hug. “Thank you,” Charles told her. “For everything. Louise is so excited about all this.”
Eve glanced over to see Louise with Dennis Mira. Good God, sweet Jesus, Eve thought, Roarke was taking Mr. Mira to Vegas. Her world was inside out.
Somewhere in the chaos, men packed into the enormous limo. As it rolled down the drive, Baxter popped out of one of the moonroofs, shooting up the victory sign while the ladies cheered.
Then she was alone with them.