Page 32 of Benedict’s Rejuvenation (Dark Patriots #5)

Yesterday, after the revealing night before when we inspected the guys’ equipment and made our suggestions, we spent time reviewing the plan and studying the maps. We wouldn’t get inside Wynne’s home on Saturday, but we hoped to get him to want to invite us there. We talked about our cover story.

Ours involved Heath and Justin never being seen with us outside the rental.

They would be like separate tourists with whom we had no connection.

If Wynne came to the house, those two would disappear.

We would try never to let him do that, but we might not have a choice.

Wynn might suggest meeting at his office or our place initially.

Beau and my sister were to be very visible and accompany us almost everywhere.

The cover story was that the two of them were planning their wedding, which wasn’t a lie.

They weren’t able to make up their minds on where to spend their honeymoon.

Keeley wanted Hawaii, and Beau wanted the Caribbean.

To help them decide, they’d brought my boyfriend and me along to help them check it out.

Ben and Beau were best friends who owned a thriving tech company.

That meant they had the money to rub elbows with the elite at this fundraising gala.

The tickets weren’t cheap, but the Patriots managed to secure four tickets to the event.

The guys drilled the story and our characters’ information into us along with the maps.

We didn’t have any information about the interior of Wynne’s home, which was why we needed to get inside.

But there were aerial pictures of the grounds. Those were studied, too.

Today, we were focusing on something far different.

We’d gone into town. Heath and Justin were tasked with getting the items for the guys’ bug-out bags, BOBs.

While they did that, we couples were shopping for clothing of all things.

It was such short notice, there hadn’t been time to get dresses for this event.

The guys were lucky. It seemed they had done things like this before, so they had tuxedos for the occasion.

Keeley and I didn’t have any spare high-end gowns lying around.

There was a store in Hana that Hadley, Griffin’s wife, mentioned to us during a call with the bosses and their wives yesterday.

Hadley had grown up with money, and she knew where to go and had connections.

We discovered that when we entered the expensive boutique and told the sales lady that Hadley Gerard-Voss had sent us.

That was what Hadley told us to tell the staff.

There was a flurry of activity, and suddenly the owner came to our aid.

As we chose gowns to try on, with her suggestions, and the men’s, the guys sat back, relaxing and drinking champagne.

The gowns were all incredibly gorgeous. There were several I loved on the hangers. I made the mistake of looking at the price tag and almost had a heart attack. There was no way I could afford to pay this much for a dress. I rushed over to Ben.

“You’re frowning, what’s wrong?” Ben asked.

“We can’t shop here, Ben. Have you looked at the price of these dresses? They’re designer gowns and cost thousands of dollars. We’ll have to find somewhere cheaper,” I hissed. Keeley had joined me. The owner was standing a discreet distance away, but we were still under her eagle eye.

“Calm down, you’re not expected to pay for them, Hummingbird,” Ben replied.

“Well, I hope you don’t think you are,” I countered.

“In this instance, no, I’m not paying for it.

Nor is Beau to pay for your sister’s dress.

The gala is part of work, meaning the bill for the dresses and any other necessary expenses will be covered by the Dark Patriots.

They initially bought the tuxedos we have for earlier work situations.

We know what the limit is, and to mix convincingly with this crowd, we have to spend this kind of money on the dress, and then we have to get shoes. Your jewelry has been taken care of.”

“Shoes? Jewelry? What did you get us into?” I asked him, sighing.

Ben gave me a tender hug. “You can handle this. Try on those dresses you pulled, and I want to see you in all of them. Then we’ll make a decision. You can check out which shoes might go best with each one.”

“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but hear you say shoes. I’ll be happy to help pick out some for whichever dress you choose and let you see which one you like the most,” the owner offered.

“That would be wonderful. I wear heels at times for work, but not these kinds,” I informed her.

“I wear climbing boots all day, so heels are a rarity for me,” Keeley told the owner.

She appeared horrified that my sister was always in boots. Seeing how the owner was dressed, she was totally the opposite of us, but an excellent advertisement for her shop.

We had a helper assigned to assist each of us in and out of the gowns.

Since I wasn’t comfortable with anyone seeing my scars, Keely and I insisted on helping each other.

She’d already seen them. I grew sweaty and hated the thought of trying on one more dress, but I did it.

I bribed myself by saving the one I liked the most for last. It forced me to try the others on to get to it.

All of them were lovely in their own ways, and Ben made appreciative comments on all of them.

That didn’t help me with deciding on one.

They all had good points, but didn’t wow me as a “that’s it” dress.

Or that wasn’t until I tried on the last one.

I had to be careful not to choose anything that exposed too much of my back. I didn’t want my scars to show. The last one met that criterion just as the others did, but instead of the neutral or pastel colors I’d tried on before, or simple black, this was a deep red.

It was sheer gold-embroidered lace that extended up to the neck, creating a keyhole effect combined with a halter look.

The back stopped short of my first scars and had four vertical straps that connected the neck to the bodice.

The embroidery ran down each hip to just short of mid-thigh.

The rest of the dress was made of red satin and had a cut-up design that extended up one leg to the thigh.

The dress was floor-length. I pictured it with gold heels, and due to the embroidery, I envisioned jewelry that would be simple and tasteful.

When I walked out, Ben and Beau stopped talking.

Ben came to his feet. His eyes were scanning me from head to toe, and I saw the heat in his expression as he took in my outfit.

He met me halfway across the floor to where he was seated.

He took my hands, held out my arms, and slowly perused me again.

When he was finished with the front of me, he twirled me slowly in a circle to see the back.

Facing him again, I waited to hear his verdict.

I loved the gown and thought it was stunning.

What if it wasn’t good enough for this gala? He shook his head.

“You can’t get this one,” he said, destroying my hope.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because I won’t get a moment’s peace all night. I’ll be fighting off men constantly. No, it showcases your beauty too much.”

I playfully pushed him, but he didn’t budge. “Stop it, I thought you were serious. I want to know. What do you think of it? Will this do?”

“I love the goddamn dress, but I wasn’t kidding about the attention. It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. I know red is bold, but we want to catch attention. I can imagine the makeup and hairstyle for this one.”

“Damn it, then we have no choice but to get it. Here comes your sister, ask her what she thinks of it,” Ben playfully grumbled while Beau gave me a wink and a thumbs-up.

I turned to see Keeley coming. She was in a stunning, bright, deep purple dress. It was so Keeley in a sophisticated and gorgeous way.

“You have to get that dress,” we both said at the same time. We laughed and then said, “Jinx,” together.

The guys laughed. First, Keeley praised my dress even though she’d seen it in the dressing room, and I did the same for hers before we allowed Beau to share his thoughts, then Ben.

In the end, it seemed we all came to a consensus relatively easily.

There was no need to try on any more. Thank God. I was a sticky mess.

While we went to change, the guys said they’d go to the shoes and see if anything stood out to them.

The owner happily trailed after them. I’d seen how she kept checking them out.

If she wanted to keep her pretty face intact, admiring with her eyes would be all she did.

I was finding myself feeling territorial over a man. I’d never done that in the past.

Keeley and I walked over to the shoe section arm in arm after we were redressed.

We were both overjoyed with our dresses.

When we arrived, the owner, Charmaine, whom I wondered if it was the name she was born with or one she had chosen, was smiling, fluttering around, and trying her best to charm our guys.

I guess she was living up to her name. Her expression dimmed a bit when she saw us, but the idea of how much money she was about to make off us kept her from becoming too depressed.

Ben came to me, and Beau went to Keeley.

They had shoes set aside for us to see. The shoes were all very pretty and would go with our dresses.

I tried mine on and checked out which felt the best. They would only get worse as the night passed.

While walking in them, I perused the other shelves and picked out two pairs to add to my pile.

After half an hour, we had made our decision not just on the heels, but also on matching clutches to go with them.

At the register, Charmaine chattered away as she rang them up. “I think you ladies are going to love these. You said it was for an event this weekend?”