“Mr. Mason Pierce and guest,” a deep voice boomed over a loudspeaker.
As we stepped into the crowd, Mason whispered, “I see Sparrow.”
Allowing my brother to lead, I had new questions. Why hadn’t I been more curious? Why hadn’t I gone online to look at Sterling Sparrow’s picture, Tinsley Constantine, or any of the Constantines?
They were wealthy, but where did their money come from?
More and more questions spun through my head.
“Mason,” a man with dark hair and eyes shining from behind his mask said with a nod. “Glad you made it.” He turned to me. “Lorna.”
Suddenly, I wondered if I should curtsy. I didn’t know how to curtsy.
Shit.
What if the queen or someone else was here who required a curtsy?
“Lorna,” Mason prompted, pulling me from my near panic.
I swallowed, hoping my voice worked. “Mr. Sparrow, it’s nice to meet you.”
His chin barely moved in response before he turned to Mason, “All the Sparrows are here. Patrick is talking to Lennox Demetri. It was his father, Oren, who I met with this afternoon. Old man’s on board, but I’m not overlooking the son. Lennox is here with his wife, Alexandra.” He turned to a tall, slender blonde woman by his side. “Marianne, take Lorna and rescue Renita. Maybe you can convince Mrs. Demetri to accompany you ladies and let us have a word with Lennox?”
Marianne smiled at me. “Hi, Lorna, nice to meet you. That was our cue to step away.”
My hand trembled as I let go of Mason. His nod wordlessly told me to do as Mr. Sparrow said.
Once we were walking, I asked, “Do you know the people he’s talking about?”
“Some of them,” she said with a smile. “Don’t worry. No one here bites.”
I looked from couple to couple. “Are you sure?”
We came to a stop. One man of the group was dark haired like Mr. Sparrow, but when he peered my way, I saw he had the lightest blue eyes behind his mask. Striking. Standing at his side was an attractive woman with auburn hair.
When she turned my way, I was mesmerized by the golden hue of her orbs peering from behind her mask. “Hello,” she said, offering her hand. “I’m Alex, Alex Demetri.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Lorna, Lorna...” I remembered Mason saying to avoid mentioning we were brother and sister.
“Marianne,” Marianne said, saving me as she too offered her hand.
The fourth woman turned our way. Not as tall as the others, her skin was a beautiful ebony, a stark contrast to her golden dress and mask. “Renita,” she said with a smile. She turned to Mr. Sparrow’s companion. “Hi, Marianne.”
“Doctor.”
Renita’s cheeks rose. “Not yet, Renita is perfect for the evening.” She placed her hand on the elbow of a tall blond man. “Excuse me, Patrick. We’re going to find something to eat and drink.”
Patrick smiled and nodded as he turned back to the dark-haired man.
A small hand reached for my elbow. “Tell me, Lorna,” Alex asked, “what is all this secret talk the men are whispering about?”
I turned to her and sighed. “Honestly” —I lifted the hem of my skirt and showed her my shoes— “I’m just trying not to trip.”
Alex laughed and hugged my arm. “I like you. For as expensive as those shoes are, they can be ghastly uncomfortable.”
Peering over my shoulder, I saw Marianne and Renita a step behind.
As we walked, we passed table after table filled with different delicacies. There seemed to be a theme of sorts with each cluster. Of course, there was also an overabundance of waiters with trays offering samples while others balanced trays with flutes of bubbling champagne.
Around the perimeter of the courtyard, various double doors opened into separate wings of the house. I still couldn’t comprehend that this monstrosity was a home.
With drinks in hand, Alex led me to one of the double doors. “Do you like art?”
Party talk.
I wished she’d asked me about what cleaning solution worked best to remove vomit from cheap carpeting, but sure, for Mason, I’d party talk. “I like some.”
“My stepfather was a fan of owning what others couldn’t.” We stepped from the crowd and music into what appeared to be a gallery. “It’s not my thing, but I can appreciate the talent and inspiration that goes into the final work of art.”
Passing beyond the threshold, the atmosphere quieted as other guests milled about, whispering amongst themselves. Paintings, surrounded by massive frames, hung around the room. Small lights illuminated each work.
Maybe this was a museum.
My eye caught a man standing down the way. I wasn’t sure what it was about him, but I found him more appealing than the art on the walls. He emanated a sense of power and danger. Maybe it was the stories Mason told me of who was attending.
This man also wore a dark gray custom tuxedo designed to fit his wide shoulders and solid trim torso. His mask was silver as was his tie. It wasn’t a bow tie like Mason’s but long and thin, disappearing behind the buttons of his jacket. He was easily as tall as my brother, and his dark hair was short. While his complexion was lighter than Renita’s, his skin was a radiant combination of mahogany and bronze.
Was he a prince or a king? A politician or a billionaire businessman? Or was this man danger personified, an international spy specializing in espionage?
My imagination ran the gamut.
“What do you think?” Alex asked as we came to a stop.
I snapped my gaze away from the man to the work of art before us. The painting appeared juvenile in a fun way with colors, a skeleton, and maybe a dog.
“I like the colors.” My only experience with art had been during school field trips to the Art Institute of Chicago. They had a famous painting of an old woman and man in front of a farmhouse with a pitchfork. For the life of me, I couldn’t recall the artist’s name. It was more realistic than what we were seeing.
I glanced back to find my mystery man still present.
As Alex assessed the brushstrokes, I peered around for Renita and Marianne and found them across the room. My gaze fluttered back to the man.
Alex Demetri reached out and patted my arm. “Relax, Lorna. These parties can be pretty boring if you overanalyze. I just let Nox do his thing and enjoy a little make-believe.”
“Make-believe?”
“Oh, I know these stuffy people. I grew up with them, and believe me; they don’t dress like this every day. It’s all a show—smoke and mirrors. Have fun with it. Reality comes back quick.”
I felt my cheeks warm.
“What?” Alex asked.
“My reality is probably a lot different than yours or anyone else’s.”
“I’ll tell you a secret.” She leaned closer. “My husband is super intense. He gets it from his father. He also obsesses. And...he can be great in every way. But here’s the secret: he keeps me awake sometimes when he snores. It doesn’t happen every night.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“My point is that it doesn’t matter who any of these people are...they’re flesh and blood just like you. Have fun with it.”
A ding came from Alex’s purse, out of place amongst the art. “Oh shit, sorry.” Quickly, she opened her purse, checking her phone. “I apologize, Lorna. I need to take this call. I’ll catch up with you.”