Sex, Lies and the CEO. Barbara Dunlop

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       Two

      Under normal circumstances, Darci’s guilt alone would have stopped her from crashing any party anywhere, never mind one that hosted the who’s who of Chicago. But a week into her new job at Colborn Aerospace, she’d learned the oldest records were kept at the Colborn mansion. Tonight was her best chance to look around inside.

      She’d rented a four-thousand-dollar, beaded, gold silk evening gown, splurged on a pair of sparkling heels and shelled out a fortune for hair and makeup at the swankiest salon in her neighborhood. If she did say so herself, she looked fabulous. At a passing glance, nobody would guess that she didn’t belong among the rich and influential.

      Now she just needed to get through the front door.

      At the top of the semicircular staircase, a butler was discreetly checking invitations. Darci hovered at the edge of the driveway, wondering how best to approach him, but she didn’t dare stand still too long or she’d call attention to herself.

      A gray-haired couple brushed past her. The woman was dressed in a dramatic peacock-blue gown with a diamond brooch at the shoulder. Making a split-second decision, Darci fell into step beside the woman.

      “That’s a lovely brooch,” she said to her as they walked.

      Luckily, the woman turned and gave her a friendly smile. “Thank you. It’s Cartier.”

      Darci frowned. “Oh dear. You have a little crease.” She boldly reached to the fabric above the brooch, pretending to smooth it out.

      “May I confirm your invitation, sir,” the butler said to the older man.

      Darci’s heart thudded as the man handed him a card.

      “Nice of you to join us, Mr. Saunders,” said the butler.

      “There we go,” Darci said to the woman, keeping her gaze studiously fixed on the dress, pretending she was part of the Saunders party. “That looks much better.”

      “Thank you.” The woman, obviously Mrs. Saunders, nodded her appreciation.

      Another couple stepped up behind them, drawing the butler’s attention, and Darci quickly moved forward.

      Her heart was still thudding wildly as they went through the stately front doors and into the huge foyer.

      “Enjoy your evening,” she managed to say to Mrs. Saunders.

      “Enjoy yours,” Mrs. Saunders replied.

      Darci peeled off to the right, anxious to mix in with the nearest crowd.

      “Champagne, ma’am?” asked a neatly uniformed waiter.

      “Thank you.” Darci helped herself to a crystal flute from his tray.

      She had no intention of consuming any alcohol, but holding the glass would make her look more like a genuine guest.

      Earlier in the week, she’d started a job in the records department of Colborn Aerospace. It was an entry-level position, requiring little in the way of experience, with a very low pay rate.

      But for her, it was perfect, because it gave her access to the basement of the building. She and Jennifer had then poured over her father’s few belongings, hoping for a clue to the location of the original turbine-design drawings. Unfortunately, they hadn’t found anything else that seemed to help.

      But during her company orientation, Darci learned that some of the historical records were stored in the basement of the mansion. So when she read about the search-and-rescue fundraiser, she threw together this plan.

      As the guests milled around her in the main reception room, she took an absentminded sip of the champagne. So far, so good.

      “Good evening.” A thirty-something man in a business suit approached her.

      “Good evening,” Darci returned, mustering a friendly smile.

      He offered his hand. “I’m Lawrence Tucker, Tucker Transportation.”

      “Darci.” She hesitated for a split second, realizing she shouldn’t use her real name. “Lake.”

      “Nice to meet you Darci Lake. You’re a supporter of the search-and-rescue program?”

      “Very much so. And you?”

      His handshake was firm, his attitude forthright. He was a fairly attractive man, tall, with broad shoulders that gave him a powerful stance.

      “Tucker Transportation donated twenty containers of freight shipping to anywhere in Europe.” He indicated a long row of tables with silent-auction signage above them.

      “You ship to Europe?” She wanted to keep the conversation СКАЧАТЬ