That Night on Thistle Lane by Carla Neggers Read Free Book Online Page A

the far end of the table in her gorgeous Grace Kelly gown. As a professional caterer, Maggie always liked to check out the food offerings at an event. Before Phoebe could decide what to do, her sister abruptly abandoned the hors d’oeuvres and whirled back toward Olivia and Dylan. At first Phoebe had no idea why. Then she saw a man dressed as a rogue of a pirate and she knew.
    Brandon.
    Phoebe immediately recognized her brother-in-law—Maggie’s soon-to-be-ex-husband—as he stopped at a tray piled high with miniature brownies. She tried not to react to his unexpected presence or call attention to herself in any way, but she was too late. His eyes met hers and then he grinned that grin that Phoebe had first seen in nursery school and her sister had fallen for at fifteen.
    She groaned inwardly. It just figured Brandon Sloan would turn up as a pirate, and that he would have no trouble recognizing her in her Edwardian costume.
    Phoebe didn’t dare bolt. That would only draw more attention to her. Instead, pretending to be casual, she helped herself to a bit of apple and cheese and moved down the table to him.
    “Oh, this is too good,” Brandon said. “Phoebe O’Dunn in sequins and a feathered hat.”
    “Maggie and Olivia don’t know I’m here,” Phoebe said through her clenched teeth.
    “Dylan?”
    “No.”
    Brandon polished off a tiny brownie in one bite. “I didn’t think you were the type to sneak into a charity ball. I’m proud of you, Phoebe.”
    “Do not make fun of me, Brandon.”
    His dark eyes softened behind his mask. “Okay, I won’t. You’re shaking. Is everything all right? I saw you dancing—”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “All right. We won’t talk about it. Why are you here on the sly?”
    “Just because.”
    “You’ve been doing too many kids’ story hours. You sound like Aidan and Tyler.”
    Phoebe ignored his teasing her and peered into the crowd. She didn’t see her swashbuckler. Everything she hadn’t noticed while she was dancing she noticed now. A cluster of people here. Another one there. A woman shrieking with laughter. A man spilling a drink down his front.
    Clinking glasses.
    Waiters with trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres.
    Reading materials and displays about the neonatal ICU.
    What was I thinking, coming here tonight?
    How had she let herself get caught up in dancing with a perfect stranger?
    They were both playing a role.
    “Phoebe?” Brandon took her by the elbow. “You look wobbly. Do you need to get out of here?”
    She nodded. “Yes.”
    “How are you getting home?”
    “I have my car.”
    He grinned. “You drove? Good for you.”
    She glared at him. “Brandon—”
    “I’m not patronizing you. I meant it. Driving in Boston is no picnic even for someone used to it. Do you have your cell phone on you? Call me if you need help. Got that? Maggie would kill me if I knew you were sneaking out of here alone and didn’t look after you.”
    “I don’t need looking after. Really. I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Phoebe started to leave, but stopped and turned back to him. “Brandon, if you see the man I danced with…” Was she completely mad? “Never mind.”
    She spun into the crowd before he could respond. As she came to the large exit doors, she scanned a knot of people gathered there but didn’t see her swashbuckler. When she reached the relative quiet of the ballroom lobby, she hesitated instead of plunging straight onto the escalators. Maybe she should go back to the ballroom and find him. Olivia and Maggie would understand that the only way she could have come tonight was exactly the way she had—on her own, without telling anyone.
    If she hadn’t been on her own, hadn’t been anonymous, she never would have danced with her swashbuckler. He might never have noticed her—or she him—if she’d been hanging out with Maggie, Olivia and Dylan.
    Suddenly her head itched under the raven-colored wig, her makeup felt like paste and her feet