Billionaire Behind the Mask
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Andrea Laurence
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19,9K
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13
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This was a bad idea, but no one seemed to realize it but Lauren.
Everyone else in her life was thrilled that she’d won the local radio contest that awarded her a glamorous makeover, limo transportation and tickets for two to the charity masquerade ball at the Texas Cattleman’s Club. She was less excited by the news because, in all honesty, Lauren Roberts was not the kind of person to enter a contest like that. It was even called the Cinderella Sweepstakes. How over the top was that? Like she was going to meet her Prince Charming out on the dance floor or something. The last time she’d stepped foot in this building, it had been a nightmare, not a dream come true.
No, she had no interest in going to that party or hanging out with those people at the club. Unfortunately, she’d been entered by her well-meaning friend and employee Amy without her knowledge. The next thing she knew, she was spending a normally lucrative Saturday at a day spa. She should’ve been with one of her food trucks downtown. She was always at one of her food trucks, but she supposed that was the point Amy was trying to make by entering her in the contest.
So, she had no social life. It didn’t bother her. She had two successful food trucks and a booming career as a chef. That was more important to her. Spending a day getting steam facials, manicures and highlights in her hair was a waste of time and money to Lauren. In her day-to-day life, none of that mattered. Her dark brown hair was always back in a bun, where no one would see the caramel highlights that were added. She got plenty of steam facials from the hot water trays in the trucks that kept food warm. And no one would see pretty nails when she was wearing food service gloves.
The whole thing was preposterous, but in the end she’d agreed to go. Because, like it or not, if she wanted to get a permanent location in Royal, Texas, and build a high-end clientele, she needed to spend more time with the kind of people that frequented the club. With that in mind, she’d put on the bright red dress that was chosen for her by the personal shopper for the contest, tied on her mask and hoped for the best.
Everyone had told her to enjoy herself. Have fun. Make the most of her night off without worrying about whether one of the trucks ran out of supplies or if Javier, the line cook, made the nightly deposit. Amy had things under control, but letting go was hard to do. It would require some alcohol. But she could do it. And deep down, Lauren knew she needed to do it.
This wasn’t high school anymore. She could go to this party and have a good time. With the ornate mask she was wearing, she could even pretend to be someone else tonight. No one would expect mousy, workaholic chef Lauren Roberts to be at the club anyway. She didn’t belong here. But the mysterious woman in red—she could fit in...and have an amazing time this evening.
She just had to get out of the damn limo.
The driver had been standing patiently with the door open for quite a while now, waiting for Lauren to step out. At this point, she was probably causing a traffic jam.
“Ma’am?” he asked at last, with concern lining his face.
“Yes, sorry.” Lauren snatched up her black, beaded clutch and forced herself out of the limousine. She took a step up the stairs to the grand entrance and stopped again. It looked very different from what she remembered, but it had been eleven years since she’d been to the club. While appearances had changed both for her and the building itself, the feelings it roused in her were the same: excitement followed quickly by anxiety and a touch of dread.
She turned to see if her getaway car was still available, but the driver and the limo were down the road already. Another car had pulled up and was unloading a crowd of people that would swallow her up if she didn’t move. Nowhere to go but forward to face her fears.
Lauren lifted the hem of her slinky red gown and climbed the steps to the entrance. At the door, a table was set up to collect tickets for the event.
“Tickets, ma’am?” the man sitting at the table asked. He was wearing a tuxedo with a Guy Fawkes mask.
“My name should be on the list,” she replied. “Lauren Roberts?”
He checked a paper he had beside him. “It’s showing it’s for a party of two. Are you expecting a guest?”
“No, it’s just me tonight.” Although she’d won two tickets, her personal life was so nonexistent she couldn’t scrape together a date in time for the party. She should’ve just brought Amy, but she knew she would have clung to her best friend all night. Lauren sighed. If she was going to make the most of tonight, she needed to get out of her comfort zone and talk to strangers.
“All the better for the single gentlemen here tonight,” the man said.
Lauren couldn’t see his expression behind his mask to see if he was joking. He sounded completely serious. The makeover must’ve worked wonders. Normally, she was completely under the radar of most men in this town. Invisible. Could highlights and a glamorous dress make that big of a difference?
“I’ll see you in there later, Miss Roberts.”
She wished her mask covered her whole face so he couldn’t see the awkward blush that was no doubt creeping up beneath her foundation. “Thank you,” she stammered and rushed past him into the club when no other valid response came to mind.
As she stepped through the doorway, the sound of music, laughter and voices called to her. She went down the hall, passing the office and the daycare center she didn’t remember being there before, and then stopped short as it opened up into the main room.
It was a lot like the last time she’d come. Dark lighting, loud music, a sea of bodies on the dance floor and loitering around the edges of the room. The difference was that these weren’t teenagers at a dance. They were adults. Rich ones. The kind that could invest in her restaurant, or at the very least become patrons someday. They weren’t going to play cruel pranks or laugh at her. They were just having a good time and raising money for charity. She needed to just blend in and have a good time, too.
The last thought propelled her forward.
“May I take your coat?” a younger girl asked as she manned the coat check.
Lauren slipped out of her leather jacket and handed it over. It didn’t exactly go with the red, beaded gown anyway, but October had brought an unexpected chill to the air. It was early for Texas, but she’d take it. Fall was her favorite time of year. She got to experiment with new seasonal flavors on the truck menus, find a pumpkin patch to explore, hand out candy to trick-or-treaters...and she wasn’t dying from the heat in the trucks each day.
She wanted a permanent storefront for her restaurant, even if just for the air-conditioning. When she was parked at a location, a generator would run some things, but not air. In the summer, that meant hot food, steamy trays and no respite from the heat, short of sticking her head in the refrigerator.
She took the coat check ticket from the girl and slipped it into her clutch. Scanning the room, she noticed the large, centralized bar and decided that should be her first stop. A drink would give her something to do with her hand, and if it loosened her up, all the better.
Nervously adjusting her Mardi Gras–style mask, Lauren took a deep breath and headed to the bar. She ordered a dirty martini with extra olives and scoped out a dark corner where she could stand and do a little people-watching until she felt more comfortable.
She’d never been to one of these charity galas at the club before. These kinds of parties were for rich ranching families to mingle and make nice tax deductions. A food truck chef normally didn’t have the time, energy or cash for something like this. As it was, she was already wincing at the cost of her drink. She supposed an open bar would cut too much into the charity’s bottom line.
Most of the people there didn’t seem to care. She’d overheard the man next to her at the bar tell the server to put it on his membership tab. A lot of others seemed to be doing that, too. The room was nearly filled to capacity with men in tuxedos and black Stetsons, women in sparkling gowns with ornately decorated masks. All of them had a cocktail in hand and a smile on their faces. At least, smiles on what you could see of their faces.
Masks were required for the event. At least, that was what the invitation said. Some wore smaller ones, Lone Ranger–style, which met the requirement, but you could still know who you were speaking to. She recognized a few people from around town even with them on. Others, like the man at the door, were wearing full-face masks. Lauren had opted for something in the middle, a black metal mask with ornate swirls cut out of it, that ended halfway down her face. It offered a little anonymity, but she didn’t have to remove it to drink or eat.
And, as her meddling friend Amy had suggested, she wouldn’t have to remove it to kiss, either.
Amy—ever the optimist when it came to Lauren’s nonexistent love life. As though a new dress and a mask were enough for Lauren to fall into the strong arms of a dark, anonymous stranger.
Speaking of which, movement out of the corner of her gaze caught Lauren’s attention. When she turned to look, she spied a tall drink of water heading toward her empty corner. He was wearing a beautifully tailored black tuxedo with a distinctive pewter wolf mask that brought out the platinum highlights in his cropped blond hair. All she could make out of his face was the hard square of his stubble-covered jaw and the flat line of displeasure that would otherwise be his mouth. The wolf wasn’t having a good time tonight.
He wasn’t looking at her. He had a cell phone pressed to one ear and his hand covering the other. If he was seeking privacy and quiet, he was out of luck. He glanced up at her for a moment, immediately dismissing her as he focused on his call and settled in the chair nearby.
Lauren wasn’t about to give up her space to the big, bad wolf. She’d found it first. Perhaps she would venture out into the crowd in a moment, but she was only three sips into her twelve-dollar martini and she wasn’t feeling bold enough quite yet.
But soon. She could feel the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her veins like the social lubricant that it was. Soon.
Sutton Wingate tried to check his troubles at the door tonight and have a good time, but they had still managed to follow him inside. Considering how things had gone the last few weeks, he wasn’t sure why he was surprised.
When the accusations against his family had cropped up, he had been the optimistic one. As the CFO of Wingate Enterprises, he would know if there was embezzling and drug smuggling happening behind the scenes. There wasn’t. It was just rumors fueled by jealousy and spite, and he was confident that eventually it would all blow over. He’d believed it right until the moment the Feds froze their assets, seized the ranch and put the whole family out on their asses.
Now he wasn’t feeling so optimistic.
So far, everyone had landed on their feet. He and his twin, Sebastian, had decided to rent a house together. Luke and Ezekiel found places to stay. And his mother, Ava, was staying with Keith Cooper, a fact that no doubt pleased “Uncle” Keith. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but they would persevere until they found out who was responsible for setting them up and their lives were returned to normal.
He thought losing the money and the family home would be the hardest thing to go through. At least until he walked through the door tonight.
His wolf mask did enough to hide his identity. If anyone suspected he might be a Wingate, they probably weren’t sure if he was Sutton or Sebastian. But judging by the way people were gossiping about his family’s scandal with him so nearby, no one knew who he was. He supposed that they didn’t think the Wingates were bold enough to show up after everything that had happened. However, if they thought that, they clearly didn’t know the Wingate family.
They were innocent and they would continue to act that way despite what others thought. Close friends seemed to be on Sutton’s side, but he was stunned by how many “friends” had turned on them. He’d lost his job, his board position, his home... He’d even had to sell his collection of sports cars to have money to live on while the legal debacle carried on. He needed those friends now, more than ever. And they were drying up like a desert creek bed.
Sutton had been hoping for some good news when his phone rang not long after arriving at the party. It was his attorney. Unfortunately, all his lawyer had to say was that he’d been unable to find a buyer for one of his cars and they might have to go to auction. He would lose money doing that, so he had to decide if he would live on what he had or if he had to cut his losses to make it through the financial tight spot they were in.
He wouldn’t consider himself poor—he didn’t expect anyone to cry for him because he only had one luxury sports car—but they certainly had stripped away a lot of the extravagances they were used to. He had plenty of investments tucked away, they all did, but cash was another matter. The team of lawyers they had working for them was funneling away everyone’s money as quickly as they could come up with it.
Proving their innocence didn’t come cheap.
“Just hold out a few more days. Maybe we’ll get a buyer. I’ve got to go,” Sutton said. Getting his long-winded attorney off the phone wasn’t always so easy. When he finally succeeded, he slipped his phone into his breast pocket and sighed in dismay.
He could go rejoin the festivities and run the risk of hearing more ugly talk about his family. But at the moment, he had to say he was far more interested in the curvy brunette standing nearby. The red, beaded gown she’d chosen for the party clung to every hill and valley of her body and, at the moment, he was very grateful for the distraction.
If there was one thing Sutton appreciated more than the purring engine of an Italian sports car, it was women. Tall, short, thin, curvy...he had a fondness for them all. And with all the recent family drama, he hadn’t had the time or energy to properly enjoy the opposite sex. The sultry brunette beside him was enough to remind him he was a man, not a machine, and he couldn’t go on punishing himself forever.
At least tonight, he didn’t have to be Sutton Wingate—scandal-plagued playboy and suspected drug trafficker. He wouldn’t have to see the light of interest fade from a woman’s eyes as she realized that the handsome man she was chatting with might very well have a one-way ticket to federal prison on the horizon. He was just a hungry wolf on the prowl for a tasty treat, just like Little Red Riding Hood here.
With a boost of confidence he hadn’t felt in weeks, Sutton got up from his seat. He moved toward the woman, noticing that her glass was almost empty. “Are you on your way to your granny’s house, Red?” he asked from just over her shoulder.
The woman turned to look at him and he was instantly struck by the curious, dark brown gaze that raked over him. The golden centers of her irises highlighted the movement even as the rest of her face was hidden from him. He waited on pins and needles for her response, hoping he would pass her inspection.
Her full, ruby lips smirked at him at last. “What big eyes you have,” she said, playing along with his pick-up line.
“The better to see how thirsty you look, my dear.”
“Do I look thirsty?” She gazed down at her glass. “I suppose I am.”
“May I buy you a drink?”
“You may. A vodka martini, please.” The woman plucked the skewer from her glass and he watched with anticipation as she sucked the last olive into her mouth. Her gaze didn’t leave his as she chewed thoroughly and swallowed. She had one of the most sensuous mouths he’d ever seen. Maybe it was because it was all he could see, but he couldn’t shake the image of pressing his lips against hers.
“Extra dirty,” she added.
Sutton felt his heart stutter in his chest. Extra dirty, indeed. He had no idea who this goddess in red was, but she already had his undivided attention. Frankly, she could have anything she wanted, but they’d start with a delicious cocktail. “You’ve got it.”
With a smile, he turned and strode over to the bar. He forced himself not to glance back over his shoulder as he did. He had a gnawing worry that if he peeked, she would be gone. A woman like that couldn’t be real. Those curves, those lips, that sass... Maybe the mask added a layer of mystery to his lady in red, but there was more to it than that. There was an electricity, a chemistry between them that hit him like a ton of bricks the moment those big, brown eyes landed on him. He was completely under her spell.
At the bar, he caught the bartender’s eye and ordered her dirty martini. “Put it on my tab,” he said.
“I’d be happy to. But who are you?” the bartender asked, gesturing toward his eyes. “The masks,” he explained.
“Oh, right. Wingate. Sutton.”
“Gotcha. For a second, I thought you were Sebastian. I think you two have the same masks on tonight.”
Sutton chuckled. “Yeah, we ordered both of them on Amazon at the last minute. Most folks can’t tell us apart without a mask, so why make it easy on people tonight? Anyway, don’t let him put any drinks on my tab.”
The bartender chuckled and slid the dirty martini over to him. He was about to reach out and take the drink when he heard a muffled voice sounding over the crowd.
“Everyone, if you could please quiet down for just a moment, I have a few announcements before the evening goes on too much further.”
Sutton turned to look at the stage where a woman in a black, lace gown was at the microphone stand. It was probably his sister Beth, who had organized the ball tonight.
She lifted up her black feathered mask and confirmed his suspicions. “Guess who?” she said with a chuckle that was echoed by the crowd.
“First, on behalf of Wingate Charities and those who benefit from our efforts, I’d like to thank all of you for purchasing a ticket and attending tonight. Despite everything, we are still dedicated to doing our good works for as long as we are able to. This branch of the company has been my baby, and it’s very important to me, so I’d like to personally say thank you again for coming out to support us. I wasn’t sure how many tickets or donations we would receive this year, but I never should’ve doubted the generous and thoughtful residents of Royal. In fact, this year we sold more tickets to the ball than ever before!”
Sutton knew the increased attendance this year probably had more to do with people hoping for a little juicy drama with their good cause, but he wouldn’t say that to Beth and ruin her night. She worked hard to make the charity successful and she deserved the community’s support, for whatever reason.
His sister paused for a bit of applause and to let her glistening eyes dry for a moment. “If you haven’t already noticed, we have an amazing selection of donated items along the back wall as part of our silent auction. I encourage all of you to bid high and bid often,” she said with a smile. “And, of course, we’re also accepting good, old-fashioned checks. If you’d like to donate directly, you can find me near the coat check, where I have my handy receipt book ready. Gotta keep those accountants happy, right?
“Now, before we get back to the dancing, I have one more thing. My beautiful sister, Harley, and her fiancé, Grant Everett, have an announcement they’d like to share.”
The couple came up to the stage with Beth and the band. Harley took the microphone that was extended to her and held it to her lips as she snuggled close to Grant’s side. “Hello, everyone. I don’t want to take too much time away from the celebration, but Grant and I wanted to share some exciting news. So many of you here are like family to us, and I feel like, lately, our family could use some happiness, so we will be getting married next month at the Everett family ranch. We won’t have much time to print formal invitations, but we’ll send out the details to everyone as soon as we can. We hope all of you will come celebrate with us.”
The crowd cheered appropriately. Sutton figured half the applause was genuine, half was polite. Like this party, some people in this town would attend just to see if anything gossip-worthy happened at the wedding. He doubted it. Harley was used to getting her way and she wouldn’t allow anything, even the family’s hard times, to ruin her wedding. She’d already had to concede on the location. Harley had wanted to marry at the Wingate Estate, but they had no idea how long it would be—if ever—before they could step foot back on the property. Apparently she and Grant had decided not to wait and find out. The wedding was already five years late as it was.
His family departed from the stage as the music started up again. That was Sutton’s cue to take his drink and turn back to this evening’s beautiful distraction. He let a heavy sigh of relief escape his lungs when he turned and found his mystery woman was still there waiting for him.
“Extra dirty,” he said, handing her the glass.
“You or the drink?” she asked with a twinkle in her dark eyes.
Sutton clucked his tongue in appreciation. Her flirting game was top-notch and he wasn’t easily impressed. He was certain he knew everyone in this town and all the members of the club for sure, but this woman was new and exciting in every way. Perhaps she wasn’t from around here. That would be even better. If she was a visitor to Royal, she wouldn’t know about the Wingates and their hard times.
“Maybe both,” he drawled. “I am the big, bad wolf after all.”
“Good.” She smiled and took a sip of her new drink.
