Wanted: Billionaire's Wife

“Here.” Danica held out the empty flutes.

The waitress looked Danica up and down, her upper lip curling into a sneer. “Take them yourself,” she said. “And where’s your tray?” She disappeared behind a pinned-back flap.

If the guest handing her his empty flutes had been rude, the waitress was out of line. But it wasn’t the waitress’s exasperation that caused Danica to stare after her. It was her outfit. She sported a black dress almost identical to the one Danica wore. They even had on similar shoes.

It was official. She didn’t belong at the party as a guest. Looking around the tent, she spotted a table full of dirty dishes. Quickly adding the flutes to the pile, she stepped out before anyone else could mistake her for a slack member of the catering team.

She returned to the terrace, but Chef Nagao’s station had a Closed—Gone Fishing sign next to empty sushi display cases. Luke was nowhere in sight. When a woman wearing a gown Danica had seen in last month’s Vogue approached her, empty plates in her hand and an annoyed scowl on her face, Danica ducked down the terrace steps again.

She should leave. She almost kissed Luke. Again. She was playing with matches, testing how long she could hold on to the sliver of wood before burning her fingers. But if she snuck out now, then her gambling winnings plus Grayson’s and Evan’s pledges would not go to the charity. She had to stay until the auction started.

Might as well kill the time exploring one of the many gravel paths snaking through the mansion’s expansive grounds. When would she get another chance to wander through a billionaire’s backyard?

The path she chose meandered through formal gardens of well-manicured bushes and profusely blooming flower beds. Danica took notes of the varieties, knowing her mom would ask. At the end of the walkway was a wrought-iron garden bench, set in a small cul-de-sac formed by shoulder-high hedges.

It was hard to believe a party full of the Bay Area’s brightest and wealthiest was being held a scant fifty yards away. She sat down to admire the evening. The sky overhead had deepened to indigo blue, decorated by a shining crescent moon. A light breeze carrying the scent of nearby roses ruffled strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. Later it would be too chilly to be outside without a jacket or sweater, but for now the temperature was perfect.

Gravel crunched on the other side of the hedge. She wasn’t the only one to escape into the gardens. She stood up to return to the house but sat back down when she overheard Luke’s name.

“He said what?” a male voice asked.

Danica frowned. The voice was familiar. “It wasn’t Dallas. It was the recruiter,” a female answered.

That voice Danica knew. Felicity. The male voice must belong to Cinco Jackson.

“You’re missing the point. It’s illegal to ask someone about their marital status in a job interview.”

Danica’s blood chilled.

Felicity protested from the other side of the hedge. “But the recruiter didn’t ask. I was so surprised anyone knew, I confirmed it.”

“You’re still not seeing the point.” Jackson spoke to her as if she were a small child. “Does Dallas have something against employing women who are married? Does he only employ single women? Is this a behavior pattern?”

Danica clasped her hands over her mouth. She needed to find Luke, quick. But if she left her bench now, the couple on the other side might hear her movements and know they had an eavesdropper.

“Something’s up. I can smell it,” Jackson continued. “The acquisition is rumored to be going south, maybe because old man Stavros has something on Dallas. Let’s get back to the party.” Rustling came from the other side as the hedges, as if they were standing up. “I want to see who Dallas is talking to and what about.” The sound of gravel crunching underneath their feet drowned out anything else he said.

Danica waited until their footsteps faded away. Then she unfolded herself from the bench, scrambling for her phone to contact Luke. The screen already had a message on it.

Where are you? Sushi closed.

She thought for a moment. With the party in full swing and the auction about to start, the entrance would probably be the least occupied space in the mansion.