knock.” Josie poked her head into the cubicle of New York Life’s fashion editor.
Cindy Rodgers continued her telephone conversation even as she motioned for Josie to come in. “Thanks so much, darling. Uh-huh, kisses to the little ones. Bye now.” She hung up and pinned Josie with a glare. “What the hell did you do last night?”
“What do you mean? I went to Dan Mason’s birthday party.”
“That’s not all you did from what I hear. I just got off the telephone with a certain designer whose dress you wore last night. He just happened to be at said party and spotted you and Dan Mason having a private moment in the upstairs hallway, and then he said Dan Mason kissed you at midnight.”
“What was he doing in the upstairs hallway?”
“Don’t try to duck the question!” Cindy rose. At five feet, ten inches, she topped many men, especially in her customary three-and-a-half-inch heels. Josie always thought her friend had the same grace as a giraffe swaying above the lowly shrubbery. “What were you doing up there? And what about that kiss? I want all the gory details, girlfriend.”
Josie laughed. “There are no gory details. He was looking for somebody to kiss to get everybody off his back, I think. And as for the upstairs thing, I went up to look for a bathroom. Dan showed me the, um, right direction.”
“I’ll bet he did.” Cindy sat again. “Did you see his drunk mother? How about his father? That family has plenty of juicy secrets, I’m sure.”
“His mother was at the party and gave a toast.” Josie ignored the second question, playing with a stray pencil on Cindy’s desk. “And yes, she was sloshed.” She sighed, thinking of the pained expression on Dan’s face. She wished she didn’t have to include Dan’s mother’s condition in her column. She didn’t want to cause him any more troubles. He certainly had enough to deal with.
Cindy’s gaze was fixed on her face. “What the hell happened? You’re not telling the whole truth, Josie-girl.”
“Nothing!” Josie made an impatient movement then hesitated. “Except, well, he invited me to Senator Hill’s benefit on Sunday.”
“He did what?” Cindy slapped the desk. “Bingo! I knew I’d get it out of you. How is it you have a date with a billionaire and you don’t find it worth mentioning first thing, hmm?”
“It’s not like a date, really.” Josie tried to sound sure of herself. “He asked if I would be there and when I said no, he said I could come with him.”
“Which sounds very much like a date to me. You’ll need something fabulous to wear. I’ll get on the phone right now. I saw something the other day that would look darling on you. You’ve got the perfect frame for it.”
“Cindy, you’re the only person in New York who thinks I’ve got the perfect frame for anything.” Josie kept the panic out of her voice with difficulty. “Make sure the dress is subtle, okay? It’s a benefit for a United States senator, after all. I don’t want to draw any attention.”
“Sounds like it’s too late for that.” Cindy grinned. “And I doubt very seriously I’m the only person who’s aware of what a beautiful woman you are. In fact, I’d bet Mr. Mason has made note.”
* * * *
Josie was familiar with the family’s recent history, but she scanned through some microfiche from twenty years before when Daniel Mason, Sr., was mayor of New York, making notes about his life and career. She paused on a picture of the family. Dan Junior stood beside his father and mother, both young and happy. Josie smiled at resolute young Dan, who had a face full of dreams and promise. “Going to save the world,” she said as she lingered on the picture for a few moments.
Dan’s younger brother and sister were also in the picture. The brother played with a truck at his older brother’s feet. The sister stood beside her mother, but her gaze was distracted by something out of the frame.
Scrolling on, Josie found more about the family and saw how it had sadly deteriorated. The sister ran away to get married to a Texas oil tycoon her father disliked. The brother moved to California, where he squandered away a good portion of his money on failed movie projects before finally becoming a mediocre producer of experimental films and documentaries. The best Josie could tell, neither of them had ever come home.
And Dan. The clips on him were hardly complimentary. Josie knew him by reputation, but somehow these clips about a billionaire playboy and the man she’d seen straighten his father’s tie didn’t jibe. “Who are you, Dan Mason?” She pressed the copy button on the microfiche machine. “Who are you?”
* * * *
“Are those the dresses?” Josie eyed the garment bag Cindy carried. She had too much experience with Cindy’s idea of style to be confident about her friend’s selection.
“Yes, darling.” Cindy draped the bag carefully over the chair in Josie’s living room. “And I wish you’d just let me choose one for you. You forget, I do this sort of thing for a living.”
“Right.” Josie turned on the overhead lights. “Let’s see them.”
“Well, this is the one I think—”
“My God, Cindy, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Josie stared at the hot pink, skin-tight creation Cindy had over her arm. “This dinner is for a senator.”
Cindy sighed and put the dress aside, reaching for another. “Fine. I knew you’d say that, but you’d look fabulous in it. You’ve got just the right coloring.”
The second dress was red. Josie frowned at the bright color, but she couldn’t find a fault with the cut of the dress, which was simple and almost staid. Still, when she tried it on, she shook her head. “I’m not sure. Doesn’t this make me look kind of too—something?”
Cindy studied her intently. “I don’t understand it. I thought you looked good in red, but this does nothing for you. I think it actually makes you look a little like a tomato.”
“A little? It’s the shade of red. It’s just too much.”
Cindy caught her friend’s glance in the mirror and grinned. “Maybe that’s it. Okay, I’ve got one more in here.” She extracted the final hanger and held it up.
Josie looked at the shimmery gray fabric with doubt. “I don’t see what makes this one so great.”
“Trust me. This dress is fabulous. Seriously. Try it on.”
“I’m not sure about the color, but it’s definitely better than the tomato one.” Josie took the hanger and shook it from side to side. The fabric swung in a flirty way. She smiled. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” She took the dress into the bathroom and slid it on, discovering she liked the way it clung to her thighs, making her feel both sexy and discreet at the same time.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Cindy.” Josie twirled in front of the mirror, watching the fold of the fine silky fabric as it bounced out and collapsed back. It felt more like a slip than a dress and the front dipped between her breasts much more than she was normally comfortable with, but it was obviously the kind of dress most women would die to be able to wear. “This dress is perfect.”
“If you could see yourself right now.” Cindy shook her head.
“I can.” Josie nodded toward the mirror.
Cindy waved the remark away. “Nobody ever truly sees themselves. If they did, we’d have no fashion nightmares. What are you going to do with your hair?”
Josie shrugged. “Pull it back, I guess.”
“Oh, heavens, don’t do that.” Cindy looked horrified. “God, you’re lucky I’m your best friend. Come here.”
For the next twenty minutes, long enough for Josie to get antsy, Cindy crimped and curled Josie’s hair.