“Shut up for a second and listen. It’s not a secret mission. There’s a party in New York.”
I sat taller. “A what? Where?”
“It’s a coming-out party.”
“Someone is gay?”
He grinned. “Probably a lot of people.”
My eyes widened. “Is it you?”
“Fuck no.”
I smiled. “I mean, I’m okay with it.”
“It’s a debutante party for a rich girl.”
“A debutante party? Like a dance, a b-ba-ll?” I stuttered. Because, in all honesty, ball as in party was the last thing a girl from the poorest part of Chicago ever expected to say.
“Yeah.” Mason nodded. “It’s a big deal.”
“What does New York have to do with Chicago? I assume this involves Sparrow.”
“Sterling Sparrow, you probably know if you pay any fucking attention, is the son of Allister Sparrow. They’re big in real estate all over the world, including New York. This party is a coming-out party for this rich chick, Tinsley Constantine.”
“That name sounds familiar.”
“It should. The Constantines have old and new money. Name’s everywhere. They’re headquartered out of New York, but they’re around the world.”
“Including Chicago?” I asked.
“Enough so that Allister received an invitation.”
I shrugged. “So he should go.”
Mason took a drink of his Coke. “Remember that chess game?”
I nodded.
“So there’s a thing happening between Old Man Sparrow and Sterling. The old man told Sparrow—Sterling—to represent the family.”
“And this has to do with me, how?”
“Allister didn’t expect Sterling to accept his offer, but he did. Sterling doesn’t plan to appear alone. He wants his right-hand men there.”
“And that includes you?” I laughed. “My brother is going to a ball.”
“I need a date.”
I grinned as I stabbed another bite of salad. “You know, my friend Jane is into you. She’s six months pregnant, but with the right dress—”
“You, Lorna. I’m asking you.”
“Eww,” I said, scrunching my nose. “Mace, you’re not my type.”
“Shut the fuck up. Listen. I’ve been busy as fuck. My classes are almost done. And things are heating up all over the city. Senator McFadden will be there, in New York.”
I pushed myself away from the table. “Are you listening to yourself? You talk about senators and wealthy businessmen who appear in magazines like they’re personal friends. I would be a fish out of water.”
“No, Lorna, you wouldn’t. Sparrow wants me to have a woman on my arm. There isn’t another woman on earth I trust more than you. There are fucking fires happening on every damn level of that chessboard. I don’t have the energy to take some woman to New York and worry if I piss her off because I’m working fires.”
“So you’re asking me to join your super-secret He-Man-Woman-Hater’s Club?”
He grinned. “Only if you learn the handshake.”
“Mace.”
“You can make jokes, but this is serious, like life and death. I’d put you on a fucking plane and hide you on some island if I knew you’d be safe.”
“My passport is out of date.”
“See, you’re a pain in the ass. Since you won’t hide, keeping you close is my next best option.” He tilted his head like he did when we were young. “And, yes...Lorna, please, I need your help.” Lifting his burger, he said the next sentence quiet and fast. “And, I also think if things get hotter, I may insist you live with me for a while.”
“Say what? With you? In your tiny apartment near campus?”
“No, my living arrangements have changed.”
“What does that mean?”
“I can’t say. First, will you come to New York with me?”
My mind filled with thoughts of his request, yet they were filled with holes I couldn’t fill. I knew nothing about debutante balls, wealthy businesspeople, or politicians. “I suppose you’re going to tell me there’ll be royalty there?”
Snagging another onion ring, Mason shrugged.
“Are you serious?”
“Reid saw the entire guest list. I suppose it depends if they show. The Duke of Cambridge is pretty straitlaced. His uncle though, the Duke of York, has been known to—”
“Oh my God,” I interrupted.
“Will you come?”
“I have to be back to work on Sunday morning.”
Mason exhaled as his shoulders slumped. “What happened? I thought you said you had the whole weekend.”
“Long story, but I promised Jane I’d cover for her.”
Mason bobbed his head for a moment. “Okay. The ball is Saturday night at an estate in Bishop’s Landing. We’ll have a hotel room in New York. I’ll check, but there’s probably a red-eye Sunday morning that can get you back to Chicago in time.”
Suddenly, my heart beat faster, thumping in my chest. “Mace, I’ve never been on a plane.”