Seventeen
Alex held her breath as she stared at the little boy holding a teddy bear and standing in the doorway of what was evidently his bedroom, judging by the toys scattered all about the place.
“Oh, aren’t you just adorable?” Skyla cooed, walking towards the child. “Would you look at him, Alex? I just want to wrap him up and take him home.”
Alex hissed out a low warning, trying to get Skyla to keep her distance from the wide-eyed boy, but it was no use.
“Hello, there,” Skyla said, kneeling a few feet away from him. “My name is Skyla but tonight I’m Samantha. Who are you?”
So much for our fake identities, Alex thought with a mental sigh.
The boy looked uncertainly from Alex to Skyla before he whispered, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
“Are you allowed to talk to friends?” Skyla asked. “Because I’d like to be your friend.”
Alex inwardly winced at Skyla’s creepy-sounding words, but her intent sounded genuine—and innocent. Regardless, the boy looked confused and Alex was worried he’d make a run for it. She took an anxious step forward, heaving her bag into a better position on her shoulder. Her eyes widened as an absolutely ridiculous idea came to her. Maybe Hunter’s cryptic note had been instructive after all.
“Do you like stories?” Alex asked the boy, and the answer was obvious when his eyes lit up.
She knelt to the floor and, holding her breath to avoid the relaxant fumes, opened her pack and reached to the very bottom to dig out the massive book of children’s stories.
“Would you like Skyla to read to you?” Alex asked, holding the book out to him.
Seeing the item in her hands, he took a step forward, then another one. When he arrived at Skyla’s side, he looked up at her with owlish eyes and said, “I’m Benjamin. We can be friends if you read to me.”
“Oh, Benny, you’re so cute!” Skyla said in a voice so high-pitched that Alex feared someone would hear. “Let’s tuck you in while Aunty Alex brings us the storybook.”
Aunty Alex? Wow, Skyla really was a kid person.
Alex zipped up her pack and stood up to find that Skyla had snuggled into Benjamin’s bed with him. “Here you go,” she said, handing over the heavy book. “Happy reading.”
“Look, Benny! There are pictures!” Skyla said. She seemed more excited than Benjamin at the discovery.
“I’ll leave you both to it,” Alex said. “I’ll see you downstairs, right, Skyla?”
“Ten minutes, Alex,” Skyla said, tearing her eyes from the book. “I promise I’ll be there.”
“See you then,” Alex said, hoping that would be true.
“Hey, Alex,” Skyla called just before Alex reached the door. “You need to swap your shoes. And it’ll probably be a good idea to untuck your dress unless you’re trying to make a new fashion statement.”
Feeling like an idiot, Alex untucked and straightened her gown and swapped back into her heels. She also remembered to grab the compact powder out of Skyla’s makeup case, which was essential for their plan to work.
“Thanks, Skyla,” Alex said, genuinely appreciative.
She hurried out of the room and down a hallway, finding a staircase and descending to the next floor. When she was there, she snuck into a bathroom to straighten her hair and check her makeup. Once she was satisfied that she didn’t look like she’d just climbed up a building, she purposely left the powder brush on the bench and closed the compact, keeping it in her hands. Then she followed the hallway again until she reached the staircase that led down into the ballroom on the second floor.
Alex stood at the top of the stairs and looked out at the scene below, positioned just as Sir Oswald had been when he’d addressed his guests.
I know I need to get his attention, but I wish I’d come up with a better plan than this, Alex thought despairingly. Just like her ‘Inebriated Guest’ moment at the royal palace, she knew she would likely regret her next move.
Steeling her resolve, she clenched her teeth and slowly moved her foot to the next step down. But instead of resting her heel on the solid stair, she closed her eyes tightly and deliberately overstepped.
The effect was instantaneous.
She fell like a Slinky spring, tumbling painfully down the staircase. The musicians stopped playing and she heard gasps and exclamations all around her. Only when she came to a stop on the hard floor did she open her eyes, finding a swarm of faces all around her.
“Make way, please. Make way,” came the familiar voice of Sir Oswald.
Perfect. Just as she’d planned.
“My dear, are you all right?”
“How embarrassing,” Alex whimpered, actually managing to fill her eyes with tears. It wasn’t all that difficult, considering how painful her landing had been. “Please tell me no one saw that?”
“Of course not, my dear,” Sir Oswald lied, kneeling beside her. “Are you injured? Do you need me to call my personal physician?”
“No, please,” Alex begged. “I feel humiliated enough as it is.”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed about,” he said, patting her on the hand. “Do you think you can stand?”
When she nodded, he closed his fingers around hers and stood to his feet, pulling her up with a surprising amount of strength for someone his age. The room spun around her and it wasn’t hard for her to overdramatise her dizziness. She leaned heavily onto Sir Oswald, apologising profusely when she was finally able to lift her head.
“No need to apologise, my dear,” he told her kindly. “Why, it’s a pleasure to be able to assist such a beautiful young woman.”
Alex almost gagged. He was old enough to be her grandfather. And if he called her ‘my dear’ one more time…
“What’s your name, my dear?”
Alex’s eye twitched at the repeated endearment, but she answered him charmingly. “Ally Jones, Sir Oswald. My mother, Larissa, had me listed as her plus one, but she’s picked up a stomach bug and thought it best for everyone if she stayed home and I came without her
Alex held a breath as she waited to see if she was right about Hunter’s clue and her ‘mother’ having lots of friends—hopefully enough friends to secure an invitation to an event such as this.
Her heart raced as she watched Sir Oswald scrunch his face in confusion.
“Larissa Jones?” he said. “I don’t believe I know… Unless…” His eyes lit with comprehension. “Do you perhaps mean Larissa Rolar?”
“Rolar was her maiden name,” Alex said, the make-believe story flowing effortlessly from her mouth. “When she married my father she took his surname.”
“Not Renwick Jones, surely?” Sir Oswald guffawed. “That slimy old toad! Who would have thought he’d manage to land a catch like your mother? Ha! Well, good on him, I suppose. There may yet be hope for the rest of us.”
Alex couldn’t believe he was actually buying her deceit.