Chapter 35
The meeting was finally winding down when Lark’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and immediately wished she hadn’t. Mother. Of course.
She considered letting it go to voicemail, but Hoot’s eyes flicked toward her, then down to her phone screen. “Answer it,” he said quietly.
Lark sighed and accepted the call, putting it on speaker. “Hello, Mother.”
“Lark, darling. Where are you?”
She glanced at Hoot. “I’m... with Cormac.”
There was a brief silence. “Good. Then you can both attend.”
Lark frowned. “Attend what?”
“Wren and Bradley’s engagement party, obviously.”
Her stomach dropped. “What?”
“Your father and I have been discussing it with the Whitmores. We’re having an engagement celebration next weekend.
You’re expected to be there.” Hildi Meadows didn’t announce things to Lark.
She informed her of decisions that had already been made.
“It will be very exclusive,” her mother continued.
“The Whitmores are hosting it at their estate. There will be important people there, so I expect you to behave appropriately.”
Lark rolled her eyes. “What exactly does appropriately mean?”
“It means no more embarrassing behavior.” There it was. Lark’s jaw tightened. “And you will bring that man.” She said the last word like a disgusting curse.
She nearly choked. “My boyfriend?”
“Yes. You told us you were serious about him, didn’t you? We must meet him.” In other words, they wanted to meet him, scrutinize him, and decide whether he was acceptable by their standards.
Lark glanced at Hoot. His eyebrow had risen. She knew he’d heard that, and the derision in her tone. Apparently, so had everyone else.
Her mother continued. “This is actually perfect. It will help to further put all that unpleasant online speculation to rest. People have been talking about you disappearing from society, and frankly, it’s becoming tiresome.
Having you arrive with a respectable boyfriend will make it quite clear that you’ve moved on. ”
Lark’s fingers tightened around the phone. “So this is about appearances.”
“Everything is about appearances at these events, Lark.”
She closed her eyes. Of course it was. “Fine.”
“And dress appropriately.”
“Of course.”
“And don’t embarrass the family.”
Lark nearly laughed. “Wouldn't dream of it.”
Her mother hung up. Lark stared at the phone. Then she looked at the large computer screen. Every member of that call was watching her.
“She’s throwing an engagement party for Wren and Bradley,” Lark said.
Eggs grinned. “And apparently we’re invited.”
“Not you,” Lark said. “Me. And Cormac.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, darlin’. Where Hoot and you go, we go.”
Before she could process that, she noticed Cormac’s expression had gone thoughtful. “Where did she say it was being held again?”
“The Whitmore estate.”
That got everyone’s attention. Flint leaned back in his chair. “How soon?”
“Next weekend.”
Cormac looked at the faces on the screen. The mood in the room changed instantly. Lark recognized it now. That was the look they got when they were working.
“This could be useful,” Cormac said.
“For what?” Lark asked.
“Getting inside.”
She blinked. “You want to go?”
“We’re going.” He looked toward Haley. “Can you get us the guest list?”
Haley’s fingers were already moving. “You’re thinking Calloway will be there?”
“If he’s as connected to the Whitmores as we think.”
“On it. And I can probably get more than just that.”
Flint nodded. “We’ll need the estate blueprints. Expected security. Catering companies.”
Haley was typing away and waved Flint off. “Yeah. Yeah. Same ol’ routine. I know what I’m doing.”
“Smartass,” Eggs teased.
“While Hoot and Lark are playing happy couple, we’ll have eyes on the rest of the house. We need to know who the Whitmores are meeting, what they’re moving, and whether PSG is involved.”
“And you’ll need evidence,” Baker added.
“Exactly. If we can get into their servers, all the better.”
Lark stared at them. “So you’re turning my sister’s engagement party into an undercover operation?”
Eggs shrugged. “Technically, your mother did that when she invited us.”
Lark couldn’t help laughing. Hoot reached for her hand beneath the table. “There’s one problem.”
She looked at him. “What?”
“If we’re going as a couple, we have to look convincing.”
Heat climbed into her cheeks. Eggs immediately started grinning. “Oh, I don’t think either one of you will have a problem with that.”
“Shut up, Eggs.”
“Just saying.”
Hoot ignored him and looked at Lark. “You okay with this?”
She thought about the people on the proverbial chessboard. The Meadows. Her mother’s demands. The Whitmores. Grant Calloway. The logo she’d seen on those crates. And now the possibility that people her family were connected to had possibly tried to kill her.
She squeezed Hoot’s hand. “Yes.”
His thumb brushed across her knuckles. “Then we’re going to a party.”
Lark smiled faintly. “Something tells me this isn’t going to be a very relaxing evening.”
Hoot’s mouth curved. “With your luck?” He shook his head. “Not a chance.”
Lark was still trying to process the fact that she was apparently attending an engagement party as Cormac’s girlfriend while taking a shower and finally getting ready for the day. Suddenly, the front door opened. She jumped upon hearing the stomping of boots on the floor below.
She ran down the stairs to find two men walking in as though they owned the place.
“It’s just us,” one of them called. That was apparently all the explanation required. Spark appeared first, followed by Jeeves, both carrying coffees and looking entirely too comfortable with their unauthorized entrance.
Lark looked at Cormac. “Do they always do that?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“They just... walk into your house?”
“Pretty much.”
She stared at him. “That seems like a security problem.”
“They’re worse than burglars.”
Spark stopped dead. His gaze had landed on the broken table. “Damn.”
Jeeves looked over his shoulder. “Oh, hell.”
Lark’s stomach dropped. The table that had been last night’s casualty still lay in a mess. They’d been far too distracted to worry about furniture, and they’d never gotten around to replacing it—or even moving the broken pieces out of the way.
Spark slowly turned toward Cormac, a knowing smirk on his face. “What happened here?”
“It’s a table,” Cormac said.
“A broken table,” Spark corrected.
“Time to update your furniture?” Jeeves asked.
“Or maybe those Swedish designs aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”
“I think that has more to do with who assembled it,” Spark mused.
“Must have been a hearty meal,” joked Jeeves. Lark wished the floor would open and swallow her. Jeeves glanced between the mangled furniture and the two of them, his eyebrows climbing suggestively.
“Don’t,” Cormac warned.
Lark’s face was on fire. She suddenly became fascinated by the floor.
Jeeves folded his arms. “So this is why you’ve been ignoring our calls.”
“I haven’t been ignoring anything.”
“Right.” Spark nodded solemnly. “You were just conducting... important field research.”
Lark covered her face with both hands. “Oh, this is humiliating.”
That only made them laugh harder. Cormac shot them a look that should have stopped a lesser man. It didn’t.
Jeeves pointed at the table. “You know, furniture isn’t cheap.”
“I’ll buy another one.”
Spark snorted. “I’m sure you will.”
Lark peeked through her fingers. “Do you two have an actual reason for being here?”
They exchanged a glance. “No,” Jeeves admitted.
“We were bored,” Spark added.
Cormac stared at them. “You walked into my house because you were bored?”
“Pretty much.”
Lark dropped her hands. “These are the men protecting me?”
Cormac’s mouth twitched. “Unfortunately.”
Spark grinned at her. “Don’t worry. We’re much more professional when bullets are involved.”
Lark wasn’t sure that made her feel better. She looked at the broken table again and groaned. “I am never going to recover from this.”
Jeeves laughed. “Oh, sweetheart. Around this group?” He shook his head. “You’ve just given them material for the next decade.”
Lark looked at Cormac. He had the audacity to look amused. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Traitor.”
His grin widened. And somehow, despite her embarrassment, she found herself smiling too.