A Scandalous Deal by Joanna Shupe

Author:Joanna Shupe
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-04-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“I’m quite relieved you are here,” Becca whispered near Phillip’s ear. Waiters hovered around the dining table, making adjustments, while the four guests settled into their chairs. To rescue his friend from matchmaking efforts, he had agreed to accompany Becca and her parents to dinner tonight. At least the private dining suite on Sherry’s second floor would shield them from the prying eyes in the main dining room downstairs.

“Of course,” he murmured. “Besides, you’ve promised to return the favor at the opera on Friday.”

He and Becca had come to an understanding of sorts the other night during his mother’s dinner. Neither of them had any interest in marriage yet their families were insistent. Therefore, they decided to play along for a short while, accompanying each other to required social events to keep their parents from matchmaking. If they stuck together—and remained well within the bounds of propriety—then this would buy them time. Rumors might circulate but would come to naught. They had no intention whatsoever of marrying.

Phillip thought it a genius plan.

“Yes, I have,” Becca said as the champagne was poured. “And I hate the opera.”

“I promise to smuggle as much scotch as you can handle,” he murmured and she laughed.

“It is so lovely to see you two getting along,” Mrs. Hall said, beaming across the table at Phillip and her daughter. “Mr. Hall and I are quite pleased.”

“Yes, indeed.” Mr. Hall picked up his glass. “Let’s toast to a promising future.”

The rest of them lifted their glasses. “To the future,” Phillip said with a small smirk in Becca’s direction.

A food order was placed and the group relaxed with drinks, chatting easily about events and people they shared in common. Phillip listened with half an ear. He’d never cared for polite society or following who was in or out of favor this particular week. That was his mother’s world, not his. His focus remained on ensuring the Mansfield name was remembered for far more than hosting the annual Debutante Ball.

“How is your hotel project coming along?” Becca’s father asked him.

“Very well, actually. We’re continuing with the excavation for another few weeks. Then they’ll pour the foundation.”

“Do you really think you can fill all those expensive rooms?” Mrs. Hall sipped from her crystal glass. “Are there enough people who can afford it?”

“Yes, I think so. Large events will help subsidize the costs, as will the revenue from the restaurants. But it’s my hope to create a new standard of luxury travel in America.”

“I think it’s very clever,” Becca said. “I cannot wait—”

“Excuse me.” A waiter approached the table with a small slip of paper offered to Phillip. “Mr. Mansfield, a message.”

“Me?” Who on earth knew he was even here? He took the paper and quickly read the note. Baffled, he glanced up at his party. “If you will excuse me for a moment, Mr. Hatcher is dining downstairs and wishes to have a word.”

“Hatcher, you say?” Mr. Hall leaned closer. “See if you can ask him about where he predicts oil prices going, will you?”

“I’ll do my best.

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