Unmasked / Inked. Stefanie London

was what this was about. Revenge. The McPartlin & Co. deal had launched Ben’s boutique consulting firm into the big leagues. They were his flagship client.

      And Damian was going to do everything in his power to take the business from him, the way Ben had taken something precious from Damian.

      The memory made red flash before his eyes like a matador’s cape. “Then he had the audacity to tell me I’d never make it. That I’d never even come close to playing at his level.”

      “He’s a prick, that’s a fact well established.” Aaron shook his head. “But you need to let it go. It was four years ago. It’s not healthy to hang on to this shit for so long.”

      “Are you done, Oprah?”

      “Sticks and stones, mate. I’m only saying this because you’re like a brother to me.” He sighed. “Have a few drinks, find a woman and forget about Ben. Forget about Jenny while you’re at it. They’re not worth the energy.”

      Aaron was the only person outside his family who knew what’d happened with his divorce and his abrupt departure from Ben’s firm. Trust wasn’t something Damian had in large supply, especially these days, but he’d put his life in Aaron’s hands if the situation called for it.

      However, the guy had married his teenage sweetheart and lived a life of sunshine and roses. He didn’t understand Damian’s need to settle the score.

      “Having a few drinks and finding a woman is exactly why McPartlin & Co. thinks I’m wrong for them. I need a change of image.”

      “And how are you going to do that?”

      “Maybe I should get engaged. That’ll make me look like family material.” Damian drummed his fingers on the bar, his mind whirring. Searching for a solution. “I could be the guy who finally settled down for the right woman.”

      Aaron looked at him like he was crazy. “And who would you get engaged to?”

      “Someone I don’t care about.” In other words, someone who wouldn’t be able to screw him over.

      * * *

      “I’d always assumed if I was going to be in a barn naked, there’d at least be a sexy cowboy involved.” Lainey shimmied on the spot, pulling the dress over her hips. It was a touch too tight, but it was a loaner, so she’d have to make do.

      “Are you saying I’m not good enough for a roll in the hay?” Imogen grinned. “Now, quit complaining and zip me up.”

      Both dresses had come from a friend of Imogen’s who owned a boutique in Malvern. The sizing options for borrowed dresses had been limited. But since Lainey couldn’t afford to shell out a few thousand dollars for a fancy dress, she had to suck in her stomach and avoid eating. One, because the boning in the bodice wouldn’t allow for any expansion, and two, because the dresses could not get dirty under any circumstances.

      And yet they were changing in a stable. Go figure.

      Lainey reached for the zip at Imogen’s back and tugged. It stuck at the halfway point for a moment, then slid up. It was a snug fit, but it would do.

      “How do I look?” she asked.

      Imogen’s dress was all black lace and vampy satin—a far cry from her usually sedate approach to fashion. Her jewelled mask hid most of her face, and with a plummy stain coating her usually bare lips, Imogen was transformed.

      “Incredible.”

      “And you...” Imogen squealed. “That hair makes you look like a totally new person.”

      Lainey had spent years trying to get her naturally dark blond hair to the perfect shade of Gwen Stefani platinum. But earlier that week she’d thrown years of careful bleaching and maintenance down the drain to turn herself into a fiery redhead.

      The shade was a vibrant ruby colour that made her fair skin seem even more porcelain. It also warmed up her hazel eyes and gave her total Little Mermaid vibes. So much that she was starting to wonder why she’d never been a redhead before.

      Imogen reached up to adjust the glittering fabric on Lainey’s dress. “You’re going to cause trouble for every man in that ballroom.”

      The skimpy straps and plunging neckline left no room for a bra. And there was a slit up the side of the twinkling silver skirt, which made her feel all kinds of exposed. But that was exactly why she’d picked it. If she was going to do something stupid and reckless, then she was damn well going to look hot while she did it.

      “One wrong move and I’m going to flash my boobs,” she said with a rueful grin. “Chances are Damian will totally ignore me and I’ll end up scandalising Melbourne’s society crowd.”

      “At least you’re here for a positive reason,” Imogen said. She sounded stressed, though it was hard to tell with the mask covering her face.

      “Everything will work out okay. You’ve thought this plan through. You’re looking after your sister,” Lainey said. “But you’re not doing anything wrong.”

      Imogen nodded. “Exactly. I just want to get evidence that he’s cheating.”

      “Wouldn’t you’d rather find out he’s not cheating?” Lainey raised a brow.

      Imogen pressed her lips into a flat line. “Don’t judge my plans and I won’t judge yours, okay?”

      “Fair enough.” Lainey held her hands up. “I solemnly swear not to mention it again.”

      “Good.” Imogen nodded and scooped up the uniforms they’d worn to sneak into the venue with the owner of the catering company. “We can leave these here and Marie will pick them up later.”

      Lainey nodded. “What’s she getting out of this, by the way?”

      “I’m putting her on the preferred suppliers list at work,” Imogen said. “We use caterers all the time, so it would be a big chunk of business for her. We’re supposed to put all new suppliers through a panel vetting process, but I just told my boss we should use her and he said okay.”

      “Privilege of being the CEO’s right-hand lady?”

      “Exactly, and I know she’s amazing at her job so I don’t feel too bad about doing it. You know I don’t normally bend the rules, but I figure she’s going out on a limb for me...” Guilt flickered across Imogen’s expression, but she quickly refocused. “Anyway, let’s get this show on the road.”

      “Knock ’em dead.” Lainey gave Imogen’s hands a squeeze and then hung back while her friend headed along the building toward the side entrance.

      Imogen paused at the corner, where a path curved through the garden, and peeked around. She held up her hem, a handful of black lace and satin exposing some strappy silver sandals with a sensible midheight heel. Lainey smiled. So there was a hint of the real Imogen under her costume.

      A second later, Imogen flashed Lainey a thumbs-up. And then she was gone. The plan was for Lainey to count to thirty and then make her way down the same path.

      Digging into her clutch, she pulled out a round compact mirror. Unlike the sleek dress, fancy shoes and glamorous mask, the compact was rough around the edges. Well loved. The gold clasp was tarnished and the embroidered rose on the lid had seen better days. But tonight it was her talisman. The compact had belonged to Lainey’s grandmother, a woman who’d done fearless things in the name of love. Like giving up marriage to a wealthy aristocrat and forgoing a life of privilege, causing her family to cut her off and cast her out. She’d given it all up for him—her comfort, her security, her family.

      She would understand why Lainey was doing something outrageous to have one night with the guy of her dreams.

      “One cat dog, two cat dog, three cat dog,” Lainey murmured, forcing herself not to speed through her count using the technique her mother had taught her when she was little.