Jinx (8 page)

That didn’t seem like Grace. If anything, the society matron would kill you with kindness, no matter how rude you were to her.

Joanne laughed. “Of course not. Grace would never do anything like that. She’s far too nice and generous.” She smiled. “But I would.”

“Why?”

Joanne looked toward the stage, where Hannah glared at the auctioneer. “Because Hannah Harmon is nothing but a bully in a short skirt and high heels. She thinks just because she has a little money she can do whatever she wants—and that everyone should love her.”

I wanted to point out Joanne was wearing a shorter skirt and higher heels than Hannah. And that she had more money. And that she pretty much did whatever she wanted to, whenever she wanted to. But Joanne wasn’t through with her rant.

“The woman’s an egotistical ass. I know. I’ve been married to a few.” Joanne turned her violet eyes to me. “Did you know she made a play for Berkley while we were engaged? She practically took off her clothes and danced around naked in front of him. She still hits on him every time she sees him, and she’s always calling and asking for his advice on business deals or wanting to see his art collection. Like I don’t know what
that
means.”

Ah, now we’d gotten to the real reason Joanne had sabotaged Hannah—she’d tried to horn in on Joanne’s man. Her prize possession, as it were, just like the Star Sapphire was Berkley’s. I rubbed my temple and tried to talk some sense into Joanne.

“So, Hannah’s not the nicest person around. So, she made a couple of passes at Berkley. That’s not a crime. Besides, it’s not like he reciprocated. Everyone knows he’s crazy about you, Joanne. So, why did you have to do this tonight of all nights? You know how important the benefit is to the museum. Pissing off Hannah won’t help our cause one bit.”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to write the museum a check that will cover whatever pitiful amount Hannah might have raised tonight.”

I sighed. “Joanne—”

“Oh, there’s Berkley. Gotta run, Bella. See you later.”

I tried to grab Joanne’s arm, to stop her and demand she find a way to fix this. But my power flared, and a waiter chose that exact moment to step between us. I just barely managed not to slam into him. Joanne darted through the swirling crowd.

“. . . sold! To the gentlemen at the bar for one thousand dollars!”

The auctioneer brought down his gavel. Hannah clomped off the stage, grabbed a drink from the closest server, and downed it in one gulp. Her fingers tightened around the empty glass, and she looked like she wanted to throw it at somebody. Joanne was right. Hannah looked pissed. I’d never liked dealing with angry people, but I, being the diplomat, decided to go over and see if I could cheer her up.

“Hi, Hannah.” I plastered a smile on face. “Are you having a good time? I love your costume.”

Hannah looked down at me over the rim of her champagne flute. “A good time? Of course I’m having a good time, Bella. I was just humiliated in front of five hundred of Bigtime’s wealthiest citizens. And now I have to go have dinner with Milton Moore for a measly thousand bucks.”

“What’s wrong with Milton?”

My eyes flicked to the man in question. Milton Moore sat at the bar, a nurse on either side of him. They were real-life nurses, dressed in flowered scrubs and sensible, thick-soled shoes. Milton never went anywhere without at least two of them by his side. It cut down on his trips to the emergency room. Sensing our stares, Milton took a hit off his oxygen tank and waved his aged hand in our direction. A glass of Scotch trembled in his fingers.

“The man’s ninety-five years old, and he smells like moth-balls,” Hannah snapped. “That’s what’s wrong with him.”

She grabbed another drink from a passing waiter and chugged it down too. “I’m so sick of the people in this town. They think they’re so special just because they’ve had money for a couple of generations. They try to pretend like they never had to work. Or if they did, that everything was always by the book and perfectly legal. They’re nothing but a bunch of phonies. Fakes. Liars. They’ve all got skeletons and secrets in their closets. They’re no better than me. Not a single one of them. One day, they’ll realize it.”

Hannah wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but I’d never heard her talk this way before. Her voice was so harsh, so angry, that I took a step back.

“It just takes time,” I said. “They’ll come around eventually. I think most people—”

“Oh, I don’t care what you think, Bulluci. You’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

Hannah turned on her heel, leaving me to stare at her retreating back. The businesswoman stormed through the crowd, right past Joanne.

Joanne watched her go, a smile playing across her lips. She spied me staring at her and raised a glass, as though she’d just won some great victory.

All I could do was sigh.

7

Thankfully, the rest of the bachelors and bachelorettes were auctioned off without incident. SNN news reporter Kelly Caleb, Grace’s granddaughter, raised the most money, bringing in a bid of just over forty thousand dollars for a night of drinks, dinner, and dancing.

Once the crowd had exhausted the food and liquor at Quicke’s, everyone made the trek to the museum a block away, hurrying up the wide, flat steps. Spotlights at the bottom of the stairs pointed upward and highlighted the
Whimsical Wonders
banner that stretched over the massive columns framing the entrance. More lights picked up the pink and blue and green flecks in the white marble, which shimmered in the dark night.

The crowd stampeded into the new wing. Several squeals of delight rippled through the room as people saw what everyone else had donated and where all the items had been positioned. Folks rushed from one side of the room to the other, trying to look at everything at once, and people clustered three-deep around the Star Sapphire, which looked even more dazzling tonight. I stood to one side of the wing, watching the scene unfold. Everyone seemed impressed by the exhibit, and Arthur Anders flashed me a discreet thumbs-up.

I hadn’t thought it possible, given all the catastrophes of yesterday, but the exhibit looked marvelous. Round white globes hung from the high glass ceiling, while potted palms twined with lights perched in the corners. The soft light made the colors in the cars and dolls and crystal figurines that much more vibrant. Everything gleamed and glistened and glowed from the items on display to the sequin-covered costumes of the people surrounding them. Classical music trilled in the background, adding a finishing note to the festivities.

It was all very clean, very classy, very Bella Bulluci.

Everything was going so smoothly I decided to allow myself a treat, carbs and calories be damned. I flagged down a waiter and took a glass of champagne off his silver tray. But as soon as I grabbed the crystal flute, my power flared. My fingers twitched. My hair frizzed. And my body hummed with static energy.

I sighed. And things had been going so well. I hadn’t exploded food or shattered diamonds or been almost brained by a falling anvil the entire day. I’d hoped to get through the rest of the evening without incident.

But my itchy fingers told me one thing—that I would spill the drink before the night was over. Probably in the loudest, most embarrassing, attention-getting way possible. My fingers tightened around the crystal flute, as if they could keep the golden liquid in my grasp and stave off my impending doom. But in the end, that small action wouldn’t save me.

I was just jinxed, and I always would be.

“Why are you frowning, Bella?” a thick, familiar voice rumbled in my ear.

“I wasn’t frowning, Grandfather.”

Bobby waggled his white eyebrows. “My dear, I know a frown when I see one, especially on your beautiful face. Why are you unhappy? Tonight is your big night, and it’s gone off wonderfully.”

“So far,” I muttered, clutching the glass to my chest.

“It’s too bad Johnny couldn’t be here,” my grandfather said. “I’m sure he and Fiona would have been very proud of you.”

“Actually, Johnny called to congratulate me this morning and tell me what a wonderful time they’re having in Greece.” I took a cautious sip of my champagne. Perhaps if I drank it quickly, it would be gone before I spilled it. Then, I’d only have the glass to worry about. Not that that would be much better. I could do things to glasses that would make Martha Stewart weep. “I’m actually glad Fiona isn’t here.”

“Why’s that?”

“If she’d come tonight, I would have been forced to add another ten thousand dollars to the food budget just to keep her modestly fed. You know how she eats.”

My grandfather threw back his head and laughed. “That she does, with gusto. It’s one of the things I like about her.”

Fiona did just about everything
with gusto
, from eating like she had four stomachs instead of just one to designing clothes to battling ubervillains. She could afford to. She had a useful power, one she could control, instead of it controlling her, like mine always did.

“You’re frowning again,” Bobby accused. “What’s wrong?”

I plastered a smile on my face. “It’s nothing, Grandfather. I just feel some bad luck coming on.”

“Maybe you’re wrong this time.”

“I’m never wrong. Something bad will happen before the night is through. You’ll see.”

“Well, everyone is having a marvelous time, and the museum has received several large donations already, including one from this old man.” Bobby winked. “What’s a little bad luck compared to all that?”

I smiled, despite my sour mood. Grandfather was so cheerfully exasperating he always took my mind off my troubles.

“Come,” Bobby said, offering his arm to me. “I want to take another look at Berkley’s sapphire before he hides it back in his vault.”

“Why? Are you thinking of stealing it?”

Bobby’s green eyes were sly and bright. “Perhaps. If my Angel wings hadn’t been clipped long ago.”

My grandfather led me through the room, making sure to greet each and every woman we passed. He kissed hands and flirted and laughed, in keeping with his costume. Grandfather had chosen to come dressed as a pirate, a Johnny Depp for the senior set. He wore a white shirt with flowing cuffs, along with black boots and breeches. A red sash added a bit of color around his waist, while a black eye patch gave him a dashing, slightly dangerous air.

I kept a close eye on all the women he talked to, seeing if one had a certain reaction to my grandfather. A soft look on her face. A shy smile. A particular sparkle in her eyes. But I couldn’t tell who Bobby’s mysterious lady friend might be.

After a good twenty minutes of small talk, we reached the center of the room, where the Star Sapphire rested on top of its white pedestal. It looked as dazzling as ever, throwing out endless rays of cool, blue light. The gem’s deep, brilliant color reminded me of Debonair’s eyes.

Grandfather wandered off to talk to some of his old cronies. I kept staring at the sapphire, mesmerized by the way each one of its thousands of facets caught and reflected the gleaming light. I bit my lip, wishing I’d brought along a sketch pad tonight so I could try to capture its beauty.

“It’s fantastic, isn’t it?” a voice murmured.

I started. I’d been so deep into my admiration of the gem I hadn’t even heard Devlin Dash walk up beside me.

“It is impressive,” I admitted.

“What do you like best about it?” Devlin asked.

I cocked my head to one side, studying the glistening jewel. “I love the way it catches the light and glows, as if it has an inner fire.”

“Why, Bella, I didn’t realize you were quite so passionate about the arts,” Devlin said.

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was teasing me. But I’d never known Devlin Dash to tell a joke. At least, not without stumbling over the punch line.

“The arts are one of my main delights in life,” I said. “What about you, Mr. Dash? Are you passionate enough to give the museum another hefty contribution this year?”

Normally, I would never be this blunt and aggressive, but the museum deserved all the funds it could get. And it was my job as chairperson to make sure I squeezed every penny out of every person I could, even shy, awkward businessmen.

Devlin tugged at his tie. “Of course. I’ll be more than happy to write you and the museum a check.”

I smiled. “That would be wonderful. Anything you could do to support the museum would be most appreciated.”

Devlin opened his mouth to respond, but Joanne James walked up to us, still wearing her outrageous lavender leather getup. Devlin’s mouth fell open a little more. The businessman was right at six feet tall, giving him a perfect, bird’s-eye view down Joanne’s low-cut bustier. But to his credit, Devlin took a nervous swallow of his champagne and moved off to stare at some Fabergé miniatures instead of at Joanne.

“It really is something, isn’t it?” Joanne said, referring to the sapphire and not her costume. I hoped. “It’s just a shame it’s too big to wear. And that Berkley won’t have it cut just a little bit.”

Her eyes dropped to the enormous diamond ring on her finger. It wasn’t much smaller than the sapphire. I took another cautious sip of my champagne and shook my head. You could always count on Joanne to be openly avaricious.

“I rather like it the way it is,” I said. “I don’t think it would be nearly as beautiful cut up into rings.”

“I agree,” a cold feminine voice cut in. “Something that exquisite shouldn’t be divided into shallow pieces. It should stay just the way it is.”

Hannah Harmon joined us. She looked remarkably calm, given her rant against everyone in attendance less than an hour ago. She tipped her head to me, then turned and gave Joanne a look that would have caused a lesser woman to spontaneously combust. Evidently, Hannah had figured out exactly who’d sabotaged her at the auction.

“That’s a rather ironic thing for
you
to say, Hannah, since you make your living selling off bits and pieces of other people’s companies,” Joanne replied.

Hannah gave Joanne a dismissive glance. “That’s just business. This—this is art.”

“Are you enjoying the benefit, Hannah?” I asked in a sympathetic tone.

Despite her earlier outburst, I felt rather sorry for Hannah and about what Joanne had done to ruin her evening. I’d never understood why people felt the need to be nasty to each other. Or call themselves weird names. Or dress up in spandex. Sometimes, I didn’t understand very much at all about life in Bigtime.

“Of course, Bella,” Hannah murmured, her eyes fixed on the sapphire. “I never stay down for long. No matter how much some people might wish otherwise.”

Joanne snorted, but Hannah pretended not to notice.

“Well, I just want to tell you again how much I appreciate your hard work. The exhibit wouldn’t be nearly the success it is without you,” I said, trying to smooth things over.

Hannah didn’t respond. Instead, she admired the sapphire another moment before drifting off into the crowd. She strolled over to a guy sitting in a wheelchair, leaned down, and started whispering in his ear. Nathan Nichols was his name, I believed. He did something for one of Hannah’s many companies, although I couldn’t recall exactly what at the moment.

“I can’t stand that woman,” Joanne declared, tossing her black hair over her thin shoulder. “She’s such a fake. Everyone knows what a complete bitch she is, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.”

I eyed Joanne, looking at her fortysomething face, which was curiously free of wrinkles, and her full chest that didn’t quite seem to match her stick-thin body. But I didn’t say anything. We’d already had enough catfights for one night. I was just glad the two of them weren’t grappling on the floor, kicking and clawing and screaming.

Joanne and I started talking about other things, mainly when I was going to get started on the clothes I’d promised her. Eventually, she wandered off to see what Berkley was up to. I stayed in front of the sapphire, admiring its many depths and committing them to memory so I could draw the jewel later. It truly was stunning.

While I was not-so-discreetly gawking, Carmen Cole came up to me.

“Bella! It’s so nice to see you,” Carmen said. A soft Southern twang colored her voice.

I smiled at the taller woman, grateful to see that someone else had decided not to dress up. Carmen had forgone the costume theme in favor of a little black dress. Then again, your typical little black dress was Carmen’s costume of choice for functions like these. Despite being married to billionaire Sam Sloane, Carmen still kept her day job as a society reporter for the
Exposé
. I also thought the simple black dresses were Carmen’s way of compensating for her superhero suit. Her silver spandex Karma Girl costume had plenty of flash to it.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked, scanning the crowd for the handsome billionaire.

“He couldn’t make it, unfortunately. Since Johnny and Fiona are taking their vacation, he had to stay at the manor and be on call tonight. Work. You know how it is.”

I grimaced. In other words, Sam was sitting in the secret underground library that functioned as the headquarters of the Fearless Five, listening to the police scanner, ready to go out and battle evil. I could have thought of a thousand ways I would rather have spent an evening, but that was superheroes for you. Putting their powers and responsibilities above everything else—their jobs, their lives, their families.

My father’s face flashed before my eyes, and I felt the familiar pain of his loss. He should have been here tonight. Enjoying the exhibit. Laughing and talking and drinking with Berkley and his other friends. Encouraging me about my art. He should have been here.

He
would
have been here if he hadn’t gone out as Johnny Angel. If he hadn’t tried to take on Siren and Intelligal by himself. But no. He’d been hooked on the adrenaline high and spandex fumes, and he’d paid the ultimate price for it. A spurt of anger replaced my sadness. Sometimes, I was so mad at my father for getting himself killed I couldn’t think straight.

Sensing my thoughts, Carmen placed a gentle hand on my arm, but I shook it off. I liked Carmen just fine, but I didn’t want her superpowered sympathy. Not now.

“Can I get a few quotes from the woman of the hour?” Carmen asked in a kind voice, pulling a digital tape recorder out of her purse.

I let out a long breath and nodded. It wasn’t Carmen’s fault my father was dead. Besides, as chairperson of the benefit, I still had a job to do. Hopefully, Carmen’s story would encourage people to come see the exhibit and donate even more money to the museum.

Once I gave Carmen all the inside scoop she wanted, I wandered through the museum, accepting everyone’s praise and reminding them to open up their wallets, checkbooks, and trust funds. But I couldn’t quite shake off my anger at my father or my melancholy at missing him.

Once I’d worked the room for the umpteenth time, I turned to take one more look at the sapphire, hoping the sight would cheer me up. The instant my foot pivoted, I knew I was in trouble. My hair went windblown wild. My fingers sparked. And I felt the static around me snap tight for an instant, like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point. I was about to have my bad luck. In spades.