Early Saturday afternoon, Jack called me down to the salon for my first event makeover. It was unnerving seeing the team of people in the salon waiting for me.
Penelope sat in one of the chairs, her large blue eyes meeting mine in her reflection.
“Hello,” she said as I sat in the chair next to her.
“Hi. Are you going to the event tonight?”
She nodded. “We all are.”
“All.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I tried to rack my brain about the night’s fundraiser, and I couldn’t seem to reconcile water safety with something that would call all the de Loughreys out. I’d only glanced at the invitation and it was obvious I needed to learn more, because I was evidently wrong about something. Right?
I opened my mouth to ask something when someone grabbed my chin and started wiping something across my face. I blinke
