Chapter Twenty-Two

The last thing Olivia wanted to do on Sunday was dress up and spend the evening mingling with the rich and famous of New York City. Night was quickly approaching and there had been no more contact from the Vigilante. The families of Mr. and Mrs. Wicks and Morris Clarke were demanding answers. The police hadn’t released the information, so they didn’t know that the Vigilante required Olivia to introduce the video, they just knew that the other victims had been found soon after the piece aired. If word got out that the instructions weren’t followed, no doubt they would threaten litigation.

She fastened the clasp of the diamond necklace and ran her hands down her black Adrianna Papell evening gown. She fell in love with this dress the first time she saw it. The sleeveless gown featured a round neck, solid bodice, a beaded waist and a sequin-embellished skirt. The dress sparkled like a night sky. Thankfully Sawyer had brought all of the black dresses in her closet because she completely forgot about the charity event tonight. She might’ve worn the same outfit to the event last year, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t packed any of the stilettos from her closet, so she unhooked the snaps on the shaft of her convertible boots and removed the foot strap to transform them from knee-high to ankle boots. The heel would add the height she needed so that the skirt draped perfectly. A black wrap would finish the outfit.

She’d piled her hair on top of her head with a few strands dropping down to frame her face. She checked her make-up one last time and flipped off the light as she exited the bathroom.

The charity event actually kicked off in the afternoon with a round of golf. She’d played last year but declined this year. She had no desire to fend off Chuck’s advances for eighteen holes. Pierce Prescott purchased a table every year for the gala and he expected his on-air talent to appear. She didn’t even have to ask about Alex and Sawyer attending…Pierce had insisted. Considering seats were a thousand dollars apiece, it was a very generous offer.

She grabbed her wrap and left the bedroom. As soon as she stepped into the living area, her jaw hit the floor. She thought Alex and Sawyer looked amazing in Armani suits but that was nothing compared to the two men wearing tuxes. She almost swallowed her tongue. Somehow the woman who managed their office arranged to have the tuxes delivered to the hotel and apparently she knew their sizes because they fit to perfection.

Sawyer noticed her first and he threw his hand over his heart and took a step back. “Wow, Olivia, you look gorgeous.”

Alex glanced up and their eyes met. Her heart clutched like it did every time she looked at him. His gaze traveled down her body and back up, a smile slowly broke across his handsome face. He walked to her, curved his fingers under her chin and kissed her, uncaring of the amused audience a few feet away. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His voice was low, husky, intimate. She wanted to skip the event and drag him back to the bedroom.

“You look so handsome.” She brushed his lapels and adjusted the black bow tie. “You, too, Sawyer. I’ll be the envy of the gala walking in with each one of you on an arm.”

Alex leaned down and brushed a kiss against her cheek. “I’m the lucky one,” he murmured, his voice washing over her like a caress. Her entire body shuddered.

They took the elevator down to the parking garage. Sawyer exited first, scanned the area and nodded. Olivia followed with Alex taking up the rear. Sawyer popped the key fob and the lights blinked on a black Cadillac Escalade with windows so dark, you couldn’t see inside. Alex opened the door to the back seat. “I’m putting you back here so you can’t be seen through the windshield,” he explained. He slid into the passenger seat and Sawyer fired the engine.

“What happened to the Range Rover?”

“It was compromised. If our unsubs were staking out the cemetery, they might’ve seen us driving in or out.”

“How did you arrange for a different vehicle?”

“Our office manager took care of it.”

“Wow, she orders tuxes that fit to perfection and arranges for alternate transportation in a city hundreds of miles away. On a Sunday, no less. I think I’d like to meet her.”

“She’s amazing,” Alex and Sawyer said at the same time and then smiled at each other and did some kind of fist bump thing. She rolled her eyes. Men.

The gala was being held in the Grand Ballroom of The Plaza on Fifth Avenue. Parking was next to impossible so the station arranged a shuttle for transportation. Sawyer pulled into the lot and they boarded the bus. Olivia greeted everyone and they took the first available seats. She slid inside by the window and Alex plopped down next to her. Queenie Allsopp, the weather girl on her team, batted her lashes and patted the seat next to her for Sawyer and he obliged. The drive was quick and the bus pulled to the curb to unload. Alex disembarked first and then he held out a hand to help her down the steps. He did the same for Queenie and they entered the castle-like hotel. The interior was grand, screaming old world luxury and elegance. They made their way to the ballroom and signed in. Even though the doors only opened fifteen minutes ago, the party looked to be in full swing. A waiter carrying a tray loaded with champagne flutes offered them one and Olivia thanked him. She raised a brow at Alex and Sawyer, who declined.

“On the job,” Alex explained.

Pierce Prescott waved and said something to the couple he was speaking with before heading over. The station owner brushed a kiss over her cheek. “You look beautiful, Olivia.”

“Thank you, Mr. Prescott. And thanks for the extra tickets, too.”

He waved a hand. “It’s all for a good cause.” He looked at her with concern. “Are you okay after everything that happened yesterday?”

She nodded. “I’m worried that we haven’t heard from the Vigilante yet.”

Prescott sighed. “Last I heard, the families are demanding answers. Callie really dug us into a deep hole.”

“Olivia, darling.” Pierce’s wife breezed over and air-kissed both cheeks. “You look positively radiant as always.”

“As do you, Mrs. Prescott. Your gown is stunning.”

“Oh, this old thing?” She winked and leaned in to whisper, “Pierce thinks I pulled it from my closet but I had it made in Paris. Shh, don’t tell.”

Olivia smiled. “My lips are sealed.”

“And who may these two handsome gentlemen be?”

“Mrs. Prescott, I’d like you to meet my friends Alex Mylonas and Sawyer Oldham.”

The older woman slid her a sly glance along with a wicked smile. Then she beamed at the men, who took turns greeting her. She chatted for a few minutes until someone called her away and she spun away in a cloud of blue silk and Chanel No. 5.

#

Sawyer couldn’t believe he was standing in the Grand Ballroom of The Plaza with the rich and privileged of New York City. A bead of sweat trickled down his spine and his bow tie felt like a boa constrictor around his neck, squeezing the breath from his lungs.

When Olivia informed them about the charity event this morning, he’d come close to declining. He’d just stay at the hotel and order room service, let the two of them party into the night. But he was on a job and there was a very real threat to the client’s safety. Someone had shot at her earlier in the week and then again yesterday. So, he’d sucked it up, put on his big boy boxers and now here he was, in the same room with people he’d spent his life running away from. He tried not to make eye contact with anyone but of course, lady luck—that fickle bitch—betrayed him.

“Sawyer?”

Oh, no. Oh, hell, no. He closed his eyes and groaned. Of course Colleen and Wilton would be here. If it involved the wealthy and entitled they would be center stage. He glanced at Alex, who was looking at him with his brows raised in question. He sighed and feeling like a condemned man about to walk the green mile, he turned.

“Hello, Mother.”

He heard Olivia gasp and noticed from the corner of his eye as Alex’s head whipped around at the greeting. His mother air kissed his cheeks. “Darling, I didn’t know you were in town.”

That’s because he didn’t want her to know. And darling? Please. He wasn’t her darling. Never had been. His parents didn’t even visit him when he was lying in the hospital clinging to life after being shot months ago.

“Sawyer, why didn’t you call and let me know you were here. You should’ve at least told me you were coming to the gala.”

“I just found out this morning.”

His mother waved a bejeweled hand. “You’ll sit at our table. Your father is around here somewhere.” She craned her neck around and he chanced a glance at Alex and Olivia. They were staring at him in open-mouthed curiosity.

“Mother, I can’t sit at your table. I’m here with my friends Alex Mylonas and Olivia Larrson. Alex, Olivia, Colleen Oldham, my mother.”

His mother smiled at Alex and held out a hand. He looked like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to shake it or kiss it. He chose to shake.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Oldham,” Olivia said.

His mom’s eyes scrunched…or as much as someone with monthly Botox injections could scrunch. “You look familiar. Does your family summer in the Hamptons?”

Olivia glanced at him and then smiled uncertainly at his mother. “Uh, no.”

“Olivia is the evening news anchor for NYC-TV3,” Sawyer told her.

“Oh my yes, that’s where I recognize you from. I watch your little program from time to time. How long have you been dating my son?” His mom positively glowed.

Sawyer could feel the tips of his ears burning. “Mother, Olivia’s a friend, nothing more.” Well, nothing more to him, but she sure as hell was to Alex. He bit back a smile as Alex shifted closer to Olivia and placed a hand against her back, marking his territory. “Good to see you, Mother, but we need to go.” He turned to make his escape.

“Sawyer, wait! You haven’t even spoken to your father.”

True, that. He and his father hadn’t spoken in over ten years. He didn’t plan on that changing anytime soon. “Maybe I’ll see him around.” With a careless wave, he moved through the crowd, not even caring if Alex and Olivia followed. He had to get away. Damn, he wished he could have a drink…or four.

“Wait up,” Alex called out. He stopped. Took a deep breath. Plastered on a fake smile and spun around.

“Oldham Financial…that’s your family?”

His family by blood only. “Dear old Dad’s company. Yes.”

Alex whistled. “Man, I had no idea you were a bazillionaire.”

Sawyer laughed but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I’m not. The old man disowned me when I became an FBI agent.”

“Why?” Olivia asked, placing a caring hand on his arm. “Being a law enforcement officer is a noble profession.”

“To some, but not to Wilton Oldham.” No, if he wasn’t working Wall Street, raking in the money hand over fist, he was a nothing. As an only child, it was expected that he would take over his father’s investment company. His father cut him off but Sawyer’s trust fund had been set up by both sets of grandparents. His father couldn’t touch it. Not that Sawyer had, either. It just sat in banks and stocks and made more money than he’d ever be able to spend in his lifetime.

“Oh, shit,” Alex whispered, his eyes huge and Sawyer knew what was coming. “The Oldham kidnapping twenty-some years ago…that was you?”

Even after all these years, thinking back to that time caused a flare of panic. When he was ten, he’d been kidnapped and held for ransom. He’d spent days in a dark, damp basement with only a box of crackers to eat and a jug of water to drink. When the FBI agents found him, he’d been so relieved he’d bawled like a baby. The kidnapping had been big news at the time and the story made headlines around the world. Several years later, people would still ask him about it.

“I remember that, too,” Olivia said, the hand on his arm squeezing in sympathy.

He shrugged with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “I was rescued and came away from the ordeal relatively unscathed.” Except for an aversion to the dark that was hard to explain to women he dated. “It’s what prompted me to want to become an FBI agent.” After his ordeal, he’d been fascinated with the feds. The one who rescued him, Mike Stone, kept in touch with him and took him under his wing. Sawyer looked up to Mike Stone more than he did his own father.

#

They sampled hors d’oeuvres from passing waiters and strolled around the opulent ballroom surrounded by soaring columns and neo-classic décor. A string quartet played music as people mingled and danced. Olivia took a sip of champagne from a crystal flute and snuck a peek at Sawyer. She felt bad he had to be here when he so obviously would rather be anywhere else. He clung to the shadows and avoided eye contact. She’d only known him a few days, but she missed the easygoing smile and the twinkling eyes.

A waving hand snagged her attention. Pierce Prescott was motioning her over, so like the good employee she was, she answered his summons.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Olivia Larrson, this is Melvin Charles. Melvin’s an old friend.”

Olivia smiled at the man with a thick head of silver hair and flashing green eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Charles.”

“It’s my pleasure, Ms. Larrson.” He clasped her hand in both of his. “I’m a big fan. I tune in to your broadcasts whenever I can.”

“Thank you, Mr. Charles and please call me Olivia.”

“And I insist you call me Mel.” He glanced around the room and motioned someone with his hand. “My son is a big fan, too. He’s been dying to meet you.”

A younger version of the man with brown hair and the same green eyes strolled forward and held out his hand, a predatory smile on his face. “Ms. Larrson, it’s a pleasure. Trenton Charles, but everyone calls me Trent.” Olivia shook it and almost couldn’t contain the shudder of revulsion. It was as if she was touching evil. She jerked her gaze to his and the malevolent gleam in his eyes made her take an involuntary step back. Alex grasped her shoulders as if sensing her distress. She was thankful for the contact. “It’s a, it’s nice to meet you both.” She smiled and turned and walked away, surprised her voice sounded strong. The reaction she had to the man was intense. She clutched Alex’s arm for support.

Alex leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Are you okay?”

“I think s—”

“Olivia.”

She turned to see the younger Charles striding towards her, the one she did not give permission to call her by her first name. She didn’t want him using it…it sounded vile coming from his lips. She gripped Alex’s arm harder.

He stopped in front of them and the smile this time was filled with unholy glee…as if he knew a secret that he wasn’t sharing. “I’m sure my roommate would love to meet you.” He craned his neck around the crowd. “He’s here somewhere…there he is.” He waved a hand. “Ray. Over here.”

A tall, thin young man strolled over, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a flute of champagne. Curly brown hair draped over his forehead. “What’s up?”

“I want you to meet someone,” Trent said with a mischievous glint. Ray tipped his glass to sip as Trent said, “Meet Olivia Larrson.”

Ray spun towards her. His eyes widened comically as liquid spewed from his mouth. Alex jerked her aside at the last moment so she avoided an unwelcome shower.

“Sorry,” Ray mumbled. He grabbed a napkin from a nearby table and mopped his mouth.

“He’s star struck,” Trent smirked, that same dubious grin tilting his lips. “He’s a huge fan. Aren’t you, Ray?” He elbowed his roommate.

“Uh, yeah.” Ray dabbed the napkin. “Big fan.”

Olivia was relieved when a bell rung, signaling it was time to serve dinner. She bid the two goodbye and they made their way across the ballroom to the table reserved for NYC-TV3 personnel. Alex pulled out a chair for her and she smiled up at him as she took a seat. He eased into the chair next to her and Sawyer sat on her other side. Each of the seven courses was delicious. Conversation at the table was loud and lively. After dessert was served, several speakers took turns on stage and then music played, encouraging everyone to dance.

Numerous times during the evening, Olivia felt eyes on her but when she surreptitiously scanned the area, she found no one paying undue attention to her. Still, she couldn’t stop the tremor at the feeling of being watched.

Alex rested an arm over the back of her chair and leaned in to whisper, “Hey beautiful, can I have this dance?” She shuddered again, but from pleasure this time. “I would love to dance with you.” Alex scooted his chair back and stood. He extended a hand and she placed hers in his. He pulled her into his arms and led her to the dance floor. Unforgettable played and they swayed to the music. Alex danced like he did pretty much everything…perfectly. “I didn’t know you knew how to dance.”

“My mom made me learn,” he explained as he led her around the floor. “She was a former dancer and she thought men should be able to dance with their significant others at events.”

“Well, thank her for me because this is nice…being in your arms.”