My Fair Billionaire(38)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

If he could manage that, there was no way he needed further instruction in etiquette from Ava. After tonight, she could send him on his merry way without her. Off to be the toast of whatever society he might happen to find himself in. Off to his multimillion-dollar estate that was half a continent away. Off to meet the “right” kind of woman his matchmaker had found for him. Off to live his successful life with his blue-blooded wife and his perfectly pedigreed children. Off to launch his business into the stratosphere and line his pockets with even more money. That was the life he wanted. That was the life he had fought so hard, for so long, to achieve. That was the life he wouldn’t sacrifice anything for. He was the master of his own destiny now. And that destiny didn’t include—

“Ava Brenner. Oh, my God.”

It was amazing, Ava thought, how quickly the brain could process information it hadn’t accessed in years. She recognized the voice before she turned around, even though she hadn’t heard it since high school. Deedee Hale. Of the Hinsdale Hales. At her side was Chelsea Thomerson, another former classmate. Both looked fabulous, of course, blonde Deedee in her signature red—this one a lush Zac Posen—and brunette Chelsea in a clingy strapless black Lagerfeld.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Deedee asked. She never could utter a complete sentence without emphasizing at least one word. “Not that I’m not incredibly happy to see you, of course. I’m just so surprised.”

“What a beautiful dress,” Chelsea added. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a knockoff that looked more genuine.”

“Hello, Deedee. Chelsea,” Ava said. As politely as she could, she added, “It’s not a knockoff. It’s from Marchesa’s new spring collection.” And because she couldn’t quite help herself, she also added, even more politely, “You just haven’t seen it anywhere else yet. I have the only one in Chicago.”

“Ooooh,” Chelsea said. “You carry it in that little shop of yours.”

“I do,” Ava said with almost convincing cheeriness.

“How is that little project going, by the way?” Deedee asked. “Are we still pulling ourselves up by our little bootstraps, hmm?”

“Actually,” Ava said, “tonight, we’re pulling ourselves up by our little Escadas.”

“Ooooh,” Deedee said. “You carry those in your little shop, too.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Have you seen Catherine?” Deedee asked. “I’m guessing she was very surprised to find you here.”

“I haven’t, actually,” Ava said. “There are just so many people, and I haven’t had a chance to—”

Before she could finish, Deedee and Chelsea were on her like a pack of rabid debutantes. As if they’d choreographed their movements before coming, each positioned herself on one side of Ava and looped an arm through hers.

“But you must see Catherine,” Deedee said. “She’s been so adamant about speaking to everyone on the guest list.”

Translation, Ava thought, Catherine will want to know there’s a party crasher among us.

“And since you so rarely attend these things,” Chelsea added, “I’m sure Catherine will especially want to see you.”

Translation, Ava thought, You don’t belong here, and when Catherine sees you, she’s gonna kick your butt from here to Saks Fifth Avenue.

Ava opened her mouth to say something that might allow her to escape, but to no avail. The women chatted nonstop as they steered her to the stairs and down to the ballroom, barely stopping for breath. Short of breaking free like a panicked Thoroughbred and galloping for the exit, there was little Ava could do but go along for the ride.

The two women located Catherine—and, by extension, Peyton—in no time, and herded Ava in that direction. Peyton looked up about the same time Catherine did, and Ava wasn’t sure which of them looked more surprised. Catherine recovered first, however, straightening to a noble posture, plastering a regal smile on her face and lifting an aristocratic hand to brush back a majestic lock of black hair. Honestly, Ava thought, it was a wonder she hadn’t donned a tiara for the event. Her gaze skittered from Chelsea to Deedee then back to Ava.

“Well, my goodness,” she said flatly. “Ava Brenner, as I live and breathe. It’s been years. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

Ava knew better than to reply, because Catherine always answered her own questions. But unlike Deedee and Chelsea, who at least pretended to be polite—kind of—Catherine, having ascended to the queen bee throne the moment Ava was forced to abdicate, saw no reason to pull punches. Especially when she was dealing with peasants.

Sure enough, Catherine barely paused for breath. “Oh, wait. I know. Visiting your father in the state pen and your mother in the loony bin, and running your little shop for posers. It’s amazing you have any time left for barging into events to which you were in no way invited.”

Ava had had enough run-ins with her former friends by now that nothing Catherine could say would surprise or rattle her. Or hurt her feelings, for that matter. No, only having Peyton hear what Catherine said could do that. That could hurt quite a lot, actually.

She’d also endured enough encounters with ex-acquaintances to have learned that the best way to deal with them was to look them in the eye and never flinch. Which was good, since doing that meant Ava didn’t have to look at Peyton. Imagining his reaction to what Catherine had just revealed was bad enough.

“Actually, Catherine, my father is in a federal correctional institution,” she said with all the courtesy she could muster. She lowered her voice to the sort of stage whisper she would have used at parties like this in the past when gossiping about those who weren’t quite up to snuff. “Federal institutions are much more exclusive than state ones, you know. They don’t admit all the posers and wannabes.”

Her reply had the hoped-for effect. Catherine was momentarily stunned into silence. Score one for the party crasher. Yay.

Sobering and returning to her normal voice, Ava added, “And my mother passed away three years ago. But it’s so kind of you to ask about her, Catherine. I hope your mother is doing well. She and my mother were always such good friends.”

Until Ava’s father was revealed to be such a cad. Then Mrs. Bellamy had led the charge to have Ava’s mother blacklisted everywhere from the Chicago Kennel Club to Kappa Kappa Gamma.