One Good Reason

CHAPTER THREE

THE SAVIOR

I pivot slowly to face the two security guards striding toward me, their matching gray suits ill-fitting, their faces set in identical expressions of displeasure. I don't know where Lancaster drummed these guys up, but they could be Schwarzenegger stand-ins on the Terminator set. Their muscles have muscles; their necks seem to have disappeared entirely.

"Are you boys talking to me?" I ask, doing my best bimbo impression. My voice is so high and bubbly, I'm sure the dolphins at Boston Aquarium are on high alert. I force my dark blue eyes wide, channeling I'm-just-an-innocent-piece-of-arm-candy vibes.

I see the slight shift of their expressions as they take me in. Their gaits slow from angry strides to strolls as they come to a stop a few feet from me.

"Miss, this area is off-limits," the one on the right says, eyeing me skeptically.

"Oh." I make a pouty face. A sultry shake of my head sends tendrils of hair spilling over my bare shoulders in a gold curtain. I arch my back slightly, shamelessly using my B-cups to their best advantage as a humph sound escapes my pursed mouth. "Well, no one told me that. The party is just so boring, I thought I'd stretch my legs." I contort my face into mask of alarm and make my voice so breathy, Marilyn Monroe would be impressed. "I'm not... I'm not in trouble, am I?"

If only I had a stick of gum to chew, the Barbie illusion would be complete.

The men glance at each other and I see them silently dismiss me as a viable threat. Which is a good thing because, seriously, I have about twenty seconds before Miriam notices my absence and sounds the alarm.

"No, miss, you're not in trouble." The guard on the left, who's maybe ten years younger than his counterpart, smiles briefly at me. "Just make sure to stay in the ballroom for the rest of the night. We're not supposed to allow anyone back here."

"Oh, thank you, boys!" I exclaim, winking at them. "I promise I'll be a good girl from now on." My tone turns suggestive. "Well... I'll try to be good."

If I'm not mistaken, a blush creeps up the older guard's neck. The younger one is outright grinning at me.

Gotcha.

I tilt my head and bite my lip demurely. "You know, it's rare to meet honest-to-gosh gentlemen, nowadays. Thank you."

"No problem, miss."

"Y'all have a good night, now!"

"You too, miss," the younger guard says. "Enjoy the party."

"Oh, I won't," I say on a laugh, turning to go. It's hard to keep myself from taking off at a run, but I know they're still watching.

So, I'll be a few minutes late. Miriam will rant. At least I won't be cuffed in the back of a squad car.

Leaving the men behind, I'm flooded with so much relief I don't notice the third guard coming around the corner until I've nearly bumped noses with her.

Yes, her.

Damn. Somehow, I doubt my bimbo routine will be equally effective on a woman.

"What's happening here?" she snaps in a no-nonsense voice at the male guards behind me. "Who is this and why is she back here?"

The men move to my either side — a Schwarzenegger sandwich.

"Well, uh," the younger guard hedges, glancing guiltily from me to the woman who is clearly his superior. "This young lady is with the party in the ballroom."