Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,74
furiously against her chest in rage. The nerve of that man! He had absolutely no sense of timing, or fair play. There was no excuse for having the crane there at all. Why, the mansion wasn't supposed to come down for at least another month or two. Or had he lied about that to placate her and the historical society?
Libby braced herself against the couch, the movie quickly forgotten in her mounting anger at Chris's latest bold move.
"Is he there?" Libby asked tightly.
"Who?" Connie countered.
"Who else? Darnell."
"Uh, yeah, I saw him around here somewhere, Lib. By the way, he looks great tonight. All decked out in a black tux which fits that gorgeous body of his like a glove with a..." Connie's description came to a screeching halt as she realized she was composing a vivid portrait of the very man Libby vowed never to mention again.
"Can the pep talk, Connie. He's still a snake no matter what he's wearing. You're sure he's there?"
"Absolutely."
"Did you confront him about the crane?"
"Sure did. He just shrugged his shoulders when I asked him what we could do about it and said there must have been a 'tiny misunderstanding' in the scheduling office."
"He calls a menacing two-ton black ball attached to a sixty foot crane a 'tiny misunderstanding'?" Libby asked incredulously. "I can't believe it. No, I can believe it. Where Christopher Darnell is concerned, anything is possible."
Libby let out a huge sigh. Her perfectly planned gala was turning into a nightmare.
"Well, he can't get away with this, Connie. Not if I can help it." She snorted with indignation. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
"That's great, 'cause I have no idea what to do. Oh, and Lib?"
"Yes, Connie?"
"Why don't you take two minutes to change out of those cut-off jeans I'm sure you're wearing and throw on a dress or a skirt?" Connie suggested hopefully. "There's a great party going on over here and I really think you'd feel out of place if you didn't show up in something festive. Who knows, you might even decide to stay and have a good time with the rest of us."
Now how did she know she had jeans on? Libby wondered. Was she that predictable? But Connie was right. As chairperson and organizer of the event, she probably should appear as presentable as possible, even if it was only for a two minute confrontation with Chris.
"OK, but I'm not staying any longer than I have to," Libby replied tersely.
"Wait, Lib," Connie cut in urgently. "One more thing. Come in through the front doors into the entrance hall, OK? One of the caterers who overheard me talking to you just told me Chris is in there greeting people as they arrive so that's where you'll find him. Pretty cheeky of him, huh?"
"At least he'll make an easy target. See you soon!"
Libby hung up the phone and dashed upstairs to her bedroom and started stripping her clothes off. Rummaging through the closet, she decisively pulled out a strapless linen dress. It was a bright, almost shocking, pink and Libby knew Chris would not be able to pretend he didn't see her. She chuckled. Wearing it would almost be like waving a red flag at a bull. Good. She was primed and ready for a fight.
After putting on a lacy, strapless bra, she slipped into the dress, and struggled to pull up the zipper in the back before assessing her appearance in the mirror. It was perfect. The fitted bodice emphasized her tiny waist while the V-shaped neckline showed her ample bosom to perfection in a dramatic décolleté. The gently-gathered skirt ended just above her knees and had a high cut kick pleat in the back.
Adding a hand-made ceramic necklace and earrings in an enameled pink design, she gave her glossy blonde hair a couple of quick strokes with the hairbrush, grabbed a small handbag, stepped into a pair of matching shoes, and headed back downstairs in a rush.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Libby sped past the massive entrance gates to Harte's Desire without pausing to admire the gaily painted sign and fifty helium-filled balloons attached to the rusted rails marking the site of the largest single fundraising event ever to be held in Borden's Landing. As her car bumped and lurched over the lane, forcing her to slow down, she finally noticed the many cars parked off to the side. Hundreds of people came, she thought jubilantly. If their large number was any indication, the fundraiser was a huge success! Maybe all the