The Rogue's Fortune

Elizabeth’s heart sank. There was bad blood between her boss and one of New York’s most influential socialites? “No.”

“Twenty years ago we were best friends. Two weeks before my wedding, she slept with my fiancé.”

Elizabeth sucked in a shocked breath. Now she understood. Her boss had set her up to fail and since that was the case, Elizabeth had nothing to lose. “Please don’t believe for a second that I’m unsympathetic to how much that hurt you, but keep in mind that for the last twelve years she has been supporting an unpublished writer who has yet to propose to her while you are obviously very happy with a husband who adores you and can afford to keep you in Alexander McQueen and Dolce & Gabbana.”

Sonya sipped her wine and regarded Elizabeth over the rim. “Are you always this straight-speaking?”

“Some clients like hearing the truth.”

“Do they now?”

Neither the socialite’s neutral tone nor her intent expression gave Elizabeth any idea how her bluntness had been received. “Others need their hand held and their reality sugar-coated.”

“And you think I’m the former.”

“I do.”

“If I hire you can I expect more such truth from you?”

Elizabeth’s head swam. She was so close to her goal that it was hard to hold her breath and talk at the same time. “I’m afraid so.”

“Never be afraid of who you are.” Sonya’s head canted to the side as she studied Elizabeth. “I like you. I’d like to hire you, but I’ve sworn never to put a single coin in that woman’s pocket.”

“I understand.” This is why Josie had made Sonya’s event the basis for her partnership. It was never going to happen. She’d been destined to fail from the start.

“Call me if you ever wise up and leave Josie’s employ. I think we could make beautiful parties together.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

Leaving Sonya to work the room, Elizabeth pulled out her phone and typed a quick text. It wasn’t until she’d sent the message that she realized her first impulse had been to share the results of the encounter with Roark.

With her mood further dampened, Elizabeth made her way back to the Waverly table. She was the last to arrive.

Ann Richardson broke off her conversation as Elizabeth approached. “Where’s Roark?”

Six pairs of eyes awaited her answer. Only two pairs held any sympathy: Vance and Charlie. The weight of her fake engagement sat heavily on Elizabeth’s shoulders. Irritation fired. How dare Roark abandon her at such a crucial time. What was she supposed to tell people when she had no idea what had prompted him to take off the way he had?

“He had an errand to run.” The excuse sounded lame.

Ann narrowed her eyes. “What sort of an errand?”

“Hello, sorry I’m late.” Wearing a bright smile, Sabeen appeared at Elizabeth’s side in a strapless gown of cobalt-blue.

“Roark called and told me to be your date tonight.”

Given the tenor of their last conversation, Elizabeth wasn’t sure whether or not to believe Sabeen. Roark had to know that having the young woman at her side during the dinner would increase Elizabeth’s discomfort rather than ease it. But if Roark hadn’t mentioned the gala, why else would Sabeen show up?

“That was thoughtful of him,” Elizabeth murmured.

“And where is Roark?” Ann Richardson wasn’t going to be satisfied until she had answers.

The look Sabeen shot Elizabeth was filled with triumph. “Didn’t Elizabeth tell you? He’s heading to Cairo.”

Was that true? Roark hadn’t shared his destination during their brief phone call. Of course, she hadn’t asked any questions.

“He left the country?” Angry color flared in Ann’s cheeks. “Without telling anyone? When is he coming back?”

“I believe a week,” Elizabeth said.