After making a quick pit stop in the restroom, Essie headed to the bar for a virgin version of the Aviation cocktail, the signature drink of the party. She didn’t know what they’d used as a substitute for the alcohol, but it had the same tangy, sweet, and bitter taste that was typical of the real deal.
When she turned to leave, she almost ran smack into a middle-aged guy in a pinstripe suit that probably cost more than her car.
“Whoa, where’s the fire, darling?” There was a slight slur to his booming voice, but he otherwise carried his liquor well. Heavyset, he was average height with a receding hairline, and he carried himself like a man long accustomed to getting whatever he wanted. At one point in his life, he might have been handsome, but years of habitual self-indulgence had taken its toll.
“Excuse me,” Essie said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Have we met?” He blocked her path when she tried to go around him and offered a meaty hand. “Neil Singer, at your service.”
It took some effort to suppress the urge to be rude. She shook his hand, and his eyes widened slightly when she matched the strength of his grip. “Belinda Lawry. Nice to meet you.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these before. Are you in the industry?”
“No, Vicky invited me.”
“You should be.” His bloodshot eyes locked onto her like a wolf that found its favorite prey. “You’ve got a face that would look great on-screen. Trust me, I know. I’ve been in the business for longer than you’ve been alive.”
Unless he’d undergone extensive cosmetic surgery, she doubted the veracity of that last statement. Nevertheless, Essie slapped on a self-deprecating smile. “Well, thank you. I appreciate the compliment, but I’m not really inter—”
“Oh, come on, who doesn’t want to be a movie star?” He laughed as if he’d told a hilarious joke. “You know Stella Day? I discovered her on a cruise ship, tending bar. She had the same attitude as you do and look at her now.”
Essie had no clue who Stella Day was, but she already felt sorry for her. As far as she was concerned, no amount of fame and fortune was worth living her life under a microscope. But she acted as though the idea intrigued her, because it helped her blend with the crowd. “And how did you convince Stella to take your advice?”
As expected, the question sent him off on a longwinded tale of how he convinced Stella to follow his advice and how successful she was because of him. All the while, Essie maintained situational awareness, keeping tabs on everything happening around her while searching for potential threats.
“The first thing I told Stella to do was change her last name. I can’t tell you what it used to be, but that many syllables don’t work in Hollywood. It’s got to be a name that rolls off your tongue, something cool and snappy that people won’t forget…”
A waiter at the bar caught Essie’s attention, and she completely lost track of what Neil was saying. Her focus sharpened, and recognition planted an icy ball of dread in the pit of her stomach.
How the hell did Vaughn get in, and how did he get his hands on a uniform that matched the rest of the waitstaff? Even with the heavy makeup and blond wig, he shouldn’t have made it past security.
Pulse racing, she forced the questions from her mind. Now wasn’t the time to worry about the logistics. If she didn’t act quickly, Nina’s body was going to be in a drawer in the morgue by night’s end.
Meanwhile, Neil was still talking about Stella, blissfully unaware of the danger. It reminded her of people at the beach who splash around in the water while sharks swim a few feet away. “So I told Ben to give her a—”
“I’m sorry, I’d really like to stay and talk, but I need to take my meds before my blood sugar crashes.”
Essie didn’t wait for a response. Not letting Vaughn out of her sight, she cut across the ballroom to Jackson.
A smile warmed his lips. “Hey, gorgeous. I didn’t think—”
“Vaughn’s here. He’s dressed as a waiter. Ten or twelve feet behind you to your right.”
To his credit, he didn’t look. But he did scowl. “How the fuck did he get in?”
“No idea. We’ll figure it out later.”
Jackson stared at her for a long moment, a pair of deep grooves between his eyebrows. “How do you want to play this?”
She appreciated the fact he deferred to her judgment when it came to dealing with her former mentor. It made her love him even more. “We stick to the plan, with a few minor changes to accommodate whatever Vaughn throws our way.”
“What if those plans involve shooting or stabbing?”
She shook her head. “Too much risk. He’s smart enough to realize he’ll never make it out of this room if he physically attacks Nina.” Eyes narrowed, she watched as Vaughn delivered a drink to a guest. “I think I know what he’s up to. Keep an eye on him while I move a few pieces into place.”
It didn’t take long, and when she was finished, Essie switched on her mic and adjusted the settings so only Nina and Jackson could hear her.
“Nina, it’s Essie. If you can hear me, scratch your nose.”