Page 14 of Twist of Fate

Sometime later, the alarm rang shrilly on the bedside table. God, she hated alarms, truly loathed them. As her mind swam up from the deep, unconscious state in which she’d slept, she remembered she was going to a party in a beautiful gown and accessories. Realizing she had little time before the stylist arrived, she made her way into the shower, turning it on and allowing it to come to the desired temperature as she bowed her head and let the water beat down on her neck and shoulders.

She was out of the shower and had just finished blow-drying her long, dark locks, when the security buzzer for the building squawked the announcement of a visitor. She looked into the video player and saw Kim, her nail technician from before, waving up to her. Buzzing her in, Quinn wrapped herself in her favorite robe and then met her.

“Celeste’s?” Kim asked, spying the bag. Quinn nodded. “Good choice. She has gorgeous things. I need to see at least the neckline of the dress.”

“Shouldn’t I put it on?”

“Not yet. Let me get your hair and makeup done and then I’ll help you into it.” Quinn unzipped the bag. Kim gasped. “That is amazing.”

For the next two hours, Quinn was primped and styled to within an inch of her life. Finally, her buzzer rang again, and she went to see who was there.

“Good evening, ma’am. I’m your driver and will be taking you to and from the Beignet Ball.”

“I’ll be down in just a minute. I’m almost ready to go.”

Kim did the final spritzing of her hair, and they went down to the waiting limo.

“Would you mind terribly if we gave my friend a lift home?”

“Not at all. My instructions were to drive you wherever you wanted and see that you were safe.”

Quinn laughed. “I’m going to a fancy party, not invading a foreign country.”

“Depending on the party,” quipped Kim, “it can be the same thing.”

The driver helped them into the car and then took Kim home before returning to the city and delivering Quinn to the riverboat. There was a long line waiting to board. A gorgeous man who had to be part of the security team by the look of the tall, muscular body encased in his tuxedo approached them. “Ms. Forrester? I’ve been sent to escort you aboard.”

“Escort me aboard? My ticket is for general boarding, which is over there,” she said, indicating the long line.

“No, ma’am, that’s been taken care of. Your ticket has been upgraded. I’ve got your VIP pass. If you’ll come with me,” he said politely, directing her toward the VIP boarding.

Wow. Levi had gone to a lot of trouble to make this evening special. I must have really pissed off the brass at Belle Chasse.

Quinn was conducted to a private entrance into the ball and up onto the main promenade deck. She was offered and accepted a glass of champagne and watched as the other partygoers made their way onboard and to various parts of the ship. Looking at the program for the party, she could see there were three decks where passengers were free to roam. On the deck closest to the water, there was a jazz band; the second deck contained a small group of musicians playing big band era songs; the top deck sported a traditional Irish four-piece band. Quinn headed to the elevator to get to the top deck.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Quinn chose to move away from the crowd that was drawn to the music and had begun to thicken. She stood where it would be difficult to spot her. She didn’t want company at the moment; she just wanted a little time to herself where she could let her mind drift and enjoy the slight breeze, the motion of the boat as it moved through the water, and the rising of the moon.

Quinn could hear the Irish band’s fiddle, tin whistle, Uilleann pipes, and the Bodhrán

—a circular frame drum. It didn’t take long to figure out they were masters of their craft.

If you listened closely, you could hear very faint strains of both the big band sound and the jazz band, but only if you tried and it took nothing away from the music that was so close.

“It’s a special kind of dampening system combined with the sound of the paddle wheel,” said a tall, elegantly muscled man as he stepped out of the shadows. His lean body only hinted at the strength Quinn knew was there.

She was glad she had on her mask, although she wasn’t sure how much it hid or even if he knew who she was.

“I was just wondering about that. This,” she said gesturing toward the glittering party as the steamboat began to make its way up the Mississippi, “is amazing.”

“It is. It’s not the fanciest of the Mardi Gras balls, but it is my favorite. It’s nice to see people get dressed up, but most everyone here is here to have a good time.”

“Aren’t all partygoers at a party to have a good time?”

“Heavens, no,” he laughed.

She liked the strong jaw, full lips, and even white teeth that showed below his black mask.

“Some parties are held only to impress the competition,” he explained. “Some to raise money for one cause or another. Some to conduct business—legal or not. And still others to cover up something that is going on in another part of the city. This is New Orleans and while we all believe in letting the good times roll, it is also a city with many secrets—some good, some not so good.”

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