“You aren’t going to call her,” Jaggersaid.
“Probably not.” After a pause, Maverick asked, “How long are you inDC?”
“Flying out latetomorrow.”
“Let’s see if we can do some damage between now and then.” Maverick raised hisglass.
Jagger toasted his friend. “I’ll drink tothat.”
Over an hour later, they left therestaurant.
“I’ve got my Porsche,” Maverick said, after handing the valet his ticket. “I’ll drop you at thehotel.”
“I’m hosting a party for VIP suppliers and clients in my suite,” Jagger said. “Why don’t you join me? I won’t be hooking up with any of the ladies, but I’m sure you’ll find someone warm to cozy up to for a few hours. Just donotscrew her in mybed.”
“I’m in,” Mavericksaid.
Maverick pulled up in front of Hotel X and left the car with the valet. “What time does your partystart?”
“Nine thirty,” Jagger replied, walking into the boutiqueproperty.
Maverick checked his watch. “We’ve got plenty of time.” He stopped at the concierge desk. “Hello, my good man. What’s theword?”
The thin man smiled warmly. “Sir?”
“What’s happening? You know, got any events worthy of a pop-in here in swanky-ville?”
“Ah, yes,” said the concierge. “We have a masquerade charity event in the mainballroom.”
“Are there women at this fundraiser?” Maverickasked.
Looking over his reading glasses, the hotel employee chuckled. “Yes, sir, I believe I saw several of them head in that direction. We’re expecting over twohundred.”
“What’s the charity?” Maverickasked.
“Walk a Mile in My Shoes,” said the employee. “It’sa—”
“I know that charity,” Jagger said. “They champion the homeless. Let’s go check itout.”
2
The Auction
As Taylor Hathawaystood in the small salon off the ballroom in the upscale Georgetown hotel, she wanted to smack her fellow volunteer across his drunken, masked face. An hour ago, he’d arrived sober. Now, he was totally inebriated and completely incapable of emceeing theevent.
“I kin totally do this, Tayyy-lor-r-r.” Spencer swayed and snickered. “Noprob.”
Taylor grabbed the microphone, made sure it was switched off, and pointed. “Sit in that chair. Do notmove.”
For the past several months, Taylor had poured every free moment into this fundraiser. As a volunteer forWalk a Mile in My Shoes, she wanted the evening to garner as much money as possible for the DC-basedcharity.
Melissa Rodriguez,Walk a Mile’sexecutive director, lined up the auction participants before bee-lining over. “How’s hedoing?”
“He’s shit-faced.” Taylor bit back a scream. “There’s no way he can stand up in front of an audience and manage to say anythingcoherent.”
“Can he read the index cards?” Melissaasked.
The two women eyed Spencer. He sat on the floor, propped against the wall, laughinghysterically.
