Chapter Seven
“Maci, breathe. You can do this.”
She was glad for Chance’s voice in her ear through the comm unit. It was the only thing keeping her even remotely grounded.
She didn’t look like herself, didn’t sound like herself. Didn’t feel like herself.
And despite the fact that she should be focusing on this mission, her thoughts kept coming back to her pregnancy and her near-showdown with Chance yesterday.
The urge to cover her stomach made her fingers twitch, and it was all she could do to stop herself. Though she couldn’t see them, all four of the Pattersons were close by. She couldn’t give her secret away yet. It wasn’t time.
But she knew she couldn’t keep it from Chance forever. He was a pit bull when it came to solving mysteries, and she’d somehow made herself a mystery he was determined to solve.
She would tell him about the pregnancy after they caught this stalker. Right now, despite not looking or feeling like herself, she had to focus on what she was doing.
“I’m okay,” she murmured into the hidden comm unit. “These are just not my normal type of people.”
Chance chuckled. “I hear that.”
He was in full support mode for this mission—leaving behind their personal conflicts—and she appreciated it. He’d been the one to show her how the comm unit worked and had been the voice in her ear all evening.
“Most of these people seem so fake,” she murmured.
She’d known an art gallery was way out of her norm and had expected to feel out of place and generally clueless about the art. But it wasn’t the art that made her uncomfortable, it was how the people were acting.
The gala was for a new contemporary artist, an in-your-face, Banksy-type multimedia creator. Maci would be the first to admit that she didn’t understand any of it.
But it didn’t seem to matter. The people here were less about the art and more about making sure they were seen and photographed from all different angles. Social media was the true artist here.
Rich was by Maci’s side, constantly touching her—like he would Stella—but it grated on Maci’s nerves. She ignored it, focusing on her smile and posing for pictures herself. They already had some pictures of the real Stella that would be superimposed over shots of the gala. Those were what would be posted online.
But right now, Maci had to be Stella enough to fool the stalker.
An hour later, despite her best attempts and Rich all but fawning over her, Maci was convinced she was failing. Hardly anyone was talking to her.
She gripped the glass of champagne she wasn’t drinking tighter. This was a mistake. She’d never considered herself a good actress even when she wasn’t distracted, so why had she thought she could do this? Mingling with the elite, with their designer clothing and bejeweled shoes. Even dressed to the nines in Stella’s clothes, she felt separate from everyone else. It wasn’t her world and it never would be.
The urge to run, to admit her mistake and leave the room—and the case—to the professionals had her looking for the nearest exit.
“Relax, Mace,” Chance told her, his voice tinny through the comm in her ear. “You look like you’re going to bolt.”
“I almost think it would be preferable to all of this,” she mumbled into her glass.
The huff of Chance’s laughter was a balm to her nerves, as was the reminder that he and the others were close by. They wouldn’t let her fail, and despite the potential danger being Stella attracted, Maci couldn’t help but feel safe with Chance nearby.
“Who pays this much to get in then basically ignores the art?” she murmured as Rich turned to talk to someone a few feet away.
The price tag to get in the door had been over a thousand dollars per person. San Antonio Security hadn’t had to pay that, of course, but still, the thought that everyone else here had done so and then were hardly paying attention to the art...
“People who are willing to spend thousands of dollars for a single social media post,” Chance answered. “Or the opportunity to network. To be seen somewhere important.”
She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. The money people paid to get in here tonight could’ve been used for much better causes.
An arm wrapped around her waist, and lips pressed against her hair. “There you are, Stella darling.”
Even knowing it was Rich and that he was supposed to do this, she had to force herself not to stiffen.
She heard Chance growl and struggled not to smile. They may have all been on the same team in trying to catch the stalker, but Chance didn’t like Rich at all.
Rich was on LeBlanc’s payroll even though he didn’t need the money, and even Chance had admitted the man made a great secret weapon. He’d grown up in the same elite society as Stella, so it wasn’t an issue for him to show up to the same events as her best friend, making him the perfect incognito bodyguard.
Or at least Maci assumed he was. She’d never actually seen him in bodyguard action, only in flirt mode. He flirted with anything that moved, including Maci. With golden hair and a tall, lean-muscled body to match, it was no surprise that his charming behavior caused people to write him off as nothing more than a playboy.
Still, Maci wished he wouldn’t touch her quite so much.
Rich dipped his head, letting his breath warm Maci’s hair. “You look uncomfortable. Is everything okay?”
“Fine, just needed a second. It’s all an adjustment,” Maci said honestly, taking a half step back to give herself some breathing room.
“You’re doing great.” He stopped, his arm slipping around her waist as he plastered her body to his side. “Incoming. Amy and Angelina Kendrick. Twin influencers on YouTube. They’re a couple of Stella’s biggest competitors. Definite frenemies.”
Maci nodded, giving him a flash of Stella’s signature smile, one that had taken her hours of practice in the mirror. It felt wrong on her face, but she knew she’d gotten it right when Rich winked. “You’re sure they won’t recognize me as not being Stella?”
“Nah. They’ll want to move on quickly, get ahead of Stella in terms of photo ops and talking to important names. I can sell this.”
Maci nodded.
“Ladies, so lovely to see you again,” Rich said, kissing the sisters’ hands and leading the conversation like he was born for it. He kept their focus on him and away from the Stella imposter at his side.
She kept her shoulders back, chin up and bored smile on her face. “Maybe you two would like to have lunch with us sometime,” Angelina said. “We could talk shop.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule.” Maci kept everything about herself loose, adopting the pretentious, distant air Stella perpetually seemed to have in public in all the footage Maci had studied.
The twins’ eyes narrowed for a moment and nerves made Maci’s stomach pitch and roil. Had she messed up? Said something wrong? She wanted to look to Rich, but knew it would be a giveaway. Stella didn’t look to others when making decisions, she simply made them and left everyone else to deal with the consequences.
“I’m going to get a drink. I need something much stronger than this champagne.” She turned without looking at the two women and left, praying it was the right thing to do.
Rich caught up with her at the bar. “That was great! I would’ve sworn you were Stella if I didn’t know better.”
“I agree, Maci,” Chance said in her ear. “You handled that like a champ.”
Too bad her stomach didn’t think so. It twisted and ached as Rich turned to get her a drink.
“Whoa, you okay?” He slid a drink toward her. “You really did do great. That will help sell you as Stella.”
Maci couldn’t pay attention to his words or the drink. All she could focus on was the nausea clawing at her insides.
Oh, no. She hadn’t taken any morning sickness medicine today, since she’d felt fine this morning for the first time in a couple weeks. Evidently morning sickness wasn’t limited to just the early hours of the day.
“Excuse me.” She walked away from Rich, her mind whirling as she desperately tried to remember where the bathrooms were. Chance had made sure she knew where seven different exits were out of this building, but nothing about bathrooms.
Her stomach gave another lurch, and she cursed under her breath.
“Maci, you okay?” Chance asked. “Why did you leave Rich? Did he do something?”
Maci didn’t want to say anything, afraid that just opening her mouth would be enough to trigger her stomach, but she knew Chance would assume the worst if she didn’t. “I’m going to be sick. I need a bathroom.”
She could hear Chance and his brothers talking, trying to figure out where she was going, but she didn’t pay attention once she saw a sign for the bathroom. All her focus was on getting to it before she made a scene.
The relief she felt when she found the door was almost enough to send her stumbling. She shoved through, thankful there was no one else inside, although not caring if there had been, and fell to her knees inside a stall just as her dinner came up.
They really shouldn’t call it morning sickness when it could happen anytime.
Maci didn’t know how long she knelt there before she felt cool hands brushing her temples as they gathered up her hair, helping to soothe her overheated skin. She couldn’t even be startled, could only try to remain upright as her stomach tried to empty more, even though there was nothing left.
“You’re going to be okay.”
Chance.
He crouched behind her, whispering soft words as his big hand rubbed soothing circles across her back.
She had no idea how she was going to explain this.
Eventually, the urge to puke disappeared and all that was left was the weariness that came from it. With one hand on the wall, Maci got to her feet, grateful when Chance’s hand on her elbow stabilized her.
The first thing she did when she got out of the stall was rinse her mouth out with water and wish she had a toothbrush. Or at least some mints in her purse.
“Thanks,” she muttered. She felt much better—as she always did—just weak.
“Are you alright?” Chance hadn’t moved far from the stall, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied her.
She didn’t have it in her to turn around and face him head-on, so she lifted her exhausted eyes to his in the mirror. “I’m fine.”
“You aren’t. We need to call this off.”
“No.”
“There will be other events, Maci.”
Her eyes flashed to his in warning as she looked under the stalls. No shoes, so they were most likely alone, but still, he shouldn’t be mentioning the mission.
“I locked the door behind me when I came in. We’re alone.”
Of course he had. The grand strategist always had a plan.
“I’m fine to keep going. It was just nerves.” There was truth to that, although she knew that wasn’t truly what had just happened.
She turned back to her reflection and opened her clutch, grateful for the touch-up makeup kit she’d thrown in last minute. With her makeup fixed and all signs of her bathroom interlude wiped away, she looked and felt a million times better. “How do I look?”
He took a step closer. “Are you sure you still want to do this? We can try again another night.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I feel much better now.”
She moved for the door, but he stepped in front of her. She could feel his gaze on her face like it was a touch, and she had to fight the urge to flinch away. Or move closer.
Those brown eyes of his were trying to dig her secrets out of their hiding spots. It was unnerving, especially when her biggest one involved him.
“The sooner we go out there, the sooner we can be done,” she whispered. “The sooner Stella is safe.”
He held her gaze for a moment, then another. Finally, he walked out the door, holding it open for her. “If this happens again, we’re calling it.”
She nodded and slipped back into the crowd.
For the rest of the night, Maci played it safe. She talked with all kinds of people, sticking close to Rich. It was Brax in her ear now rather than Chance. She thought he might be mad at her until she caught him moving around the gala with the other patrons—blending in perfectly in his black pants and shirt.
He was staying near her in case she needed him. The thought both warmed and terrified her.
By the time the gala was winding up—no sign of anything suspicious from anyone—Maci was exhausted.
“We’re done for the night, Maci,” Brax said through the comm. “If the stalker was going to try something he would’ve already done so. You and Rich head to the car, then we’ll make the switch.”
She was staying at Stella’s penthouse apartment to further the ruse. The place was much fancier than her own, but right now that didn’t matter. She just wanted a bed and to sleep for a hundred hours.
“Who has babysitting duty tonight?”
“You get me, the best Patterson brother,” Brax said. “That okay?”
She forced a smile. “You know it.”
Not Chance. Probably for the best. Being alone in an apartment with him would just make everything more complicated and sleep probably impossible.
But still, she couldn’t stop the disappointment pooling in her gut. She liked all the Patterson brothers, but Chance was always the one she would choose to have nearby.
Even when she knew that would spell disaster.