Jimmy moved close to examine it. “I don’t see any blood,” he murmured, his dark eyes sparkling. “And those beautiful nails wouldn’t look half so good on a corpse.”
Glowering at him, Vanessa threw a playful punch to his wide shoulder. She knew what he was getting at. He’d told her on more than one occasion that her little vanities, which included the highlighted brown hair hanging past her shoulders, her long nails and the four-inch heels she loved, could make it difficult for her to defend herself. Jimmy’s comments had only made her work that much harder to hone her skills. She didn’t need Jimmy to tell her that she was good at defending herself.
“Just keep your focus on your opponent,” he chided gently.
“I will,” she promised.
“And good luck on your project.”
“Thanks, Jimmy.” She leaned forward to plant a little kiss on his cheek. He didn’t move, but she sensed him waiting defensively to see if she would try to press herself against him, as had other Gotham Roses who affectionately called him The Heartbreaker.
Jimmy was extremely loyal to his wife, something that many of the wealthy socialites in the Gotham Roses couldn’t understand. Vanessa could. Her father, Manfred Dawson III, was still married to her mother, Lonette, and from all appearances, neither had ever been unfaithful. A number of her wealthy friends’ parents had been married and divorced so many times that fidelity was almost a novelty.
“Tell Linda I said hello,” she murmured, tossing the arm pads into Jimmy’s box of athletic aids. She hurried to the dressing room, excitement building within her. She was ready for a challenge.
By the time Vanessa arrived at Renee’s private dining room, she’d filed the tip of the broken nail and changed into a pink dress designed by DooRi, an up-and-coming designer friend who had been featured in Chic magazine. The dress had a plunging neckline accented with lace, and a drop-waisted skirt with a gathered, asymmetrical hem. She’d twisted her hair into a roll and stepped into her strappy, pink suede Manolo Blahniks to complete her outfit. Slightly distracted, Renee looked fashionably elegant in a fitted, black Sonia Rykiel suit with the trademark knotted bow appliquéd onto the left side of her jacket.
She was already seated at the linen-covered dining table. At the sight of Vanessa, she stood, and they embraced.
“Is everything all right?” Vanessa asked, as Renee commandeered a Verne porcelain teapot with a nautical theme inspired by Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.
Pouring tea, Renee flashed her usual, serenely confident smile. “Things are perfect. Of course we’re still trying to catch the Duke, and life is just a little crazy as could be expected with Pres’s return. Then there’s a minor annoyance or two that I’m handling.” Her tone deepened and she cut her comment abruptly.
Vanessa knew that Renee and the Governess suspected that the Duke was a wealthy criminal who controlled most of the corruption that went on in moneyed circles. The members of the undercover organization were determined to bring him down, but so far, he’d managed to keep his identity secret.
Observing Renee, Vanessa hoped that the minor annoyances that Renee was referring to had nothing to do with her or the undercover project she sensed just over the horizon. It took a lot to shake Renee Dalton Sinclair and distract her from her work at the Gotham Rose Club. Whether she admitted it or not, something pretty serious was going on.
Since Renee obviously didn’t want to talk about it, Vanessa accepted her cup of tea and asked, “Did you get a chance to look at my proposal for a fall charity ball at the Waldorf-Astoria? With all of the Gotham Rose charities to benefit, it would be the event of the season. Then there’s the fact that I’ve personally lined up several friends and family members who would love to attend.”
Renee offered Vanessa the tray filled with pastries. “Vanessa, your proposal is an excellent one. Of course it would be good for the Gotham Rose Club. I’ve already asked Olivia to make some calls and gather preliminary dates. With the number of people our members are capable of drawing to such an event, we’re looking at locations that can service a large crowd.”
Beaming, Vanessa leaned forward, careful to keep her elbows off the table. “Cool. I can hardly wait to tell the staff over at my foundation. It’s been a hard year for them.”
“For everyone,” Renee corrected.
Vanessa was certain she was talking about more than the various charities the Gotham Rose Club championed and served. Someone had nearly killed Agent Emma Bosworth at a post-Oscar party in L.A. several months ago. The main suspect was the Duke.
“When we’ve got more information, we’ll meet with everyone and make some decisions. Is that satisfactory?”
“Yes. I can see you’re on top of this.”
“Of course.” Renee smiled confidently. “The work we do is very important.” They sipped tea in companionable silence. “How’s school?” Renee asked a bit too smoothly. “You were working toward a business degree?”
Vanessa explained that if she went full time, she was about a year and a half from getting her business degree at Columbia University. She added that she’d taken the summer off to focus on the charity ball.
Renee threw Vanessa a rueful glance. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed, there’s something else I need to discuss with you.” Vanessa nodded and Renee went on. “The Governess has another project and she asked for you personally.”
“Really?” Flattered, Vanessa resisted the urge to hunch forward. She was never quite sure how people got picked for the undercover assignments, but she’d had two within the past couple of years.
On her last assignment she’d worked alone, planting bugs and identifying records and files that proved that one former classmate’s father’s business was illegally dumping chemicals and poisoning the environment. Now she was hoping for something more exciting.
“So tell me about this assignment,” Vanessa prompted, anxious to hear the specifics. It wasn’t like Renee to hold back on the details.
“As you know, our assignments are important and involve real danger.” Renee paused, her blue eyes full of concern. “It’s a modeling assignment. If you accept,” Renee explained, “it’ll take you back to the world you left a couple of years ago. It’s even been arranged for you to get a contract to model swimsuits in the coveted Inside Sports Swimsuit Fantasy Edition.”
Vanessa’s chest constricted. She found it hard to swallow past the thickness in her throat. Considering the fact that she hadn’t modeled for two years and there were many younger models clamoring for the Inside Sports swimsuit edition, the contract was quite an achievement. However, after she’d left the glittering yet caustic world of modeling and spent months recovering in a private clinic, she’d promised herself that she never had to go back. She’d modeled from the time she was fifteen until she was nearly twenty-five, and between the job, the people and life she was exposed to, she’d nearly died at least twice. Others hadn’t been so lucky.
Was she really strong enough to go back into that world and stay focused enough to complete a successful undercover mission? She’d never told anyone about everything that had happened to her, everything she’d done, but there had been rumors. Regarding Renee carefully, Vanessa bit the inside of her mouth.
It was more than likely that Renee knew all about her exploits. She might even have pictures. Renee had a number of resources at her fingertips. When she’d asked Vanessa to join the Gotham Rose Club, she’d told her that all the club’s members underwent background checks. Vanessa had been admitted, but that didn’t mean Renee knew about her struggle with drug addiction.
“Vanessa?” Renee prompted.
Vanessa stood. There was a polite knock and the dining room door swished open as the maid came back with more hot water. Vanessa felt the blood pound in her ears.
Renee