But Binky was a little abstracted, flicking through the RSVP pile. Then going through it more slowly, then starting again from the beginning. Finally she stopped altogether, one particular handsomely monogrammed card grasped in her pretty little manicured hand.
Her face was rather white, Nigel thought. It showed up her freckles beautifully.
"Nigel?" Binky said, much more quietly than her usual sharp well-elocuted uppercrust tones. Something was clearly wrong, and everything in Nigel stood at attention. (Well, except for one part. He wasn't as hetero as all that.) There was a problem, and that was what Nigel was for. Nigel was a fixer. The Yakuza could have found a place for him, if they took on a lot of camp musical theater majors with a Katy Perry fixation.
But Binky put a hand to her face, and then pulled it away, pressed her shoulders back from the slump they'd fallen into, in her pretty french-navy pussy-bow silk blouse.
"Nigel," she tried again. "Why didn't you tell me you'd invited Horatio Karlsson?"
YOU ARE READING
Gold Digger Label
RomanceBinky Huckstable has a number of problems. A ridiculous name, for one. Her genius I.Q. (Not always a blessing.) An arid, meaningless lovelife. Being the CPO - Chief Product Officer - of her family's billion-dollar company. Oh, and the upcoming...
