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I lean over the table a little, “But I think that might make me a liar.”

“Pants on fire,” Mira sings before clinking her glass against mine and taking a sip. She swallows it with a loud “ah” before looking around the room.

We’ve all been briefed by Chewy who we’re looking for. I don’t know whether the men noticed or not but we’re all sitting in strategic placements that Chewy predetermined for us. Me, Joy and Mira are all sitting together so we can keep an eye on the three tables beside us. Blanche, Remy and Ana are on the tables behind. Vi, Jazz and Kaia on the tables in front of us. Lovely and Mama Debs are assigned to the tables on the other side of us.

“See anyone yet?” Mira murmurs.

My gaze shifts around at the fancy folk crammed into the room. Some look familiar purely because they’re C list Texas celebrities. Others are people I’ve seen in advertising. The types that own carpet businesses and random other things. And then there are three men that I saw in Chewy’s file. I can’t remember their names, only that all three are accountants. And if I were running some type of charity or I don’t know, was deep into unsavoury shit, I’d want accountants on my payroll.

“See anything good?” Chewy’s voice blasts through my ear and I jump in my seat.

Blanche snorts before sending me a wink. Obviously everyone here is used to having an internal Chewy voice.

“Three accountants,” I murmur into my wine glass.

“Oohhh, nice. The ones in the file?”

“Yup,” Mira says, popping the “P”.

“Good, good. Keep an eye on the bald one,” Chewy says.

Picking up my glass again, because for some messed up reason it makes me feel less conspicuous when I mumble into my wine, I lock my gaze on the three men. “Chewy, they’re accountants, they're all bald.”

“Then keep an eye on the aggressively bald one.”

I study all the men before my gaze hits one that fits Chewy’s description.

“How does she do that?” Joy asks, her gaze locked in the same direction as mine.

“Magic,” Blanche says, waving spirit fingers in the air.

“You alright, babe?” Mad Dog asks, resting his arm behind my chair.

“Yup, just doing a little people watching.”

“See anything exciting?”

“You mean other than the sheer number of fake boobs in the room?”

Mad Dog chuckles, raising his beer to his lips and taking a long pull. My eyes are drawn to the way his throat works, his Adam’s apple bobbing and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so damned manly. I’m down bad.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Better Lives Foundation gala! We want to thank each and every one of you for attending tonight.” A woman with a frozen face screeches into the microphone.

I drown her rambling out, something about auctions and making lots of money for the cause, instead choosing to check out those accountants. Especially the aggressively bald one. Who is leaning in talking to some guy that looks familiar and yet I can’t quite place him.

“Joy, does that man baldy is talking to look familiar to you?”

Joy winks at me, lifts her wine glass to her lips and then surreptitiously moves her gaze in the direction mine is pointed. She swallows her sip, then hums a little to herself before turning back to me. Oh, she’s good.

“He doesn’t look familiar to me.”

“Me neither.” Mira adds, her brow pinched. “But looking at the program, he’s one of the major sponsors.”

Huh. “Is that weird? A major sponsor having such an in depth conversation with an accountant?”

We three all watch the two men, their heads close, baldy turning an unhealthy shade of red.

The heat from Mad Dog’s larger body warms my side as he leans in. “What are you ladies scheming over here?”