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“And you are Mister…?”
I dragged out the Mister, hoping he would fill that in. Gentleman that he was, he did.
“Mr. Bridges, Genevieve, but please call me Bill.”
“Yes, Gen. He prefers Bill.”
“I do believe I will be the envy of the ball with the three most beautiful ladies there.”
Mindy and Miss Donna laughed in unison. I smiled at Mr. Bridges, I mean Bill, as he passed us each a flute of Cristal champagne. We toasted and sipped as the city faded behind us, embarking farther into bayou country toward La Blanche Plantation Home where the Crescent City Masquerade was held each year.
On the final rural tract, the limo followed behind another one onto a long, paved drive. Passing under a canopy of centuries-old live oaks and through a line of torches lighting the path, I twisted around to see limousine after limousine filing behind us.
Mindy squeezed my hand in girlish giddiness. My stomach flipped in fear and excitement for two different reasons—that I was bait for Bamal’s assassins and that my demon hunter would be here among the masked men. The idea sent a thrill of anticipation through me.
The chauffer opened the door, and we followed Bill and Mindy’s mom up the outer steps into the throng of New Orleans’ finest. The gowns on these women were stunning. I leaned over to Mindy.
“I’m glad I let you convince me to charge the more expensive gown now.”
She nodded and winked behind her pretty mask. The antebellum home was a Greek revival, complete with two stories of wide verandas, and gardens that wound for acres beyond the home. When we walked into the main foyer, I thought we’d stepped back in time.
Candelabras burned everywhere, bathing beautiful people in ethereal light. Servants in full tuxedos and black masks greeted the guests with a choice of champagne or wine. Mindy picked up two glasses of red wine and passed one to me.
“Cheers,” she said, clinking her glass to mine.
“Mindy, come here, dear,” called her mom, waving us over into the main ballroom.
The room was mostly an open dance floor, the orchestra set up on the far end. On the outer rim of the stage and dance floor were alcoves draped with curtains of red velvet and gold trim, partitioning off private sitting areas.
I scanned the room, searching for Jude, but didn’t see him. I’d know him with or without a mask. There was no mistaking that man.
“Mindy and Genevieve, this is Mr. and Mrs. Clark and their son, Nathaniel.”
The Clarks nodded graciously in greeting. Nathaniel, a tall, russet-haired guy about our age gave us one of those smiles that put me on edge, brushing a kiss on the top of my hand. Hooded hazel eyes assessed from behind a navy-blue mask. His lips lingered longer on Mindy’s hand with a wider smile. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, this one. But the wolves here were camouflaged in designer Italian formal wear and plastic faces.
I remembered what Kat had told me.“A gentleman of the gentry in evening dress is the perfect mask to hide the wolf beneath.”Too true, Kat.
“Ladies, let me show you to our private area,” said Nathaniel.
Apparently, Mindy’s mom and Mr. Bridges had already agreed to share a private space with the Clarks. Who was I to argue even if the guy gave me the creeps?
He swaggered slowly toward the middle of the room, gesturing toward an alcove where the curtain was drawn to the side. I saw that you could either keep the entrance open with a drawstring or close it for a more private party. We stepped into the small space furnished with three round tabletops spread with white linen and red roses as well as a sofa to the back.
“Whoohoo! Look at this, Gen.”
“Nice, isn’t it?” commented Nathaniel. “We can bring in bottles of wine from the bar to avoid trips back and forth.”
“Sweet,” said Mindy. “This is my kind of party.”
Nathaniel’s wolfish smile showed teeth as he watched her bend over the table to smell a vase of roses. I noticed hazel eyes dipping to take in the revealing view when Mindy leaned over.
“Well, take it easy, Mindy. We don’t want a repeat of our last night out,” I said, bumping her to stand upright.
“Stop your frowning, Gen. We’ve got a fabulous designated driver tonight.”
The DD wasn’t what I was worried about.
“Don’t be concerned. I’ll take care of her,” said Nathaniel.
