As she steered Bibi away, Parker repeated the routine on the MOB. “Emma’s going to take you somewhere to freshen up. I’ll be there in just a few minutes.”

“Don’t tell Sarah,” the MOB sobbed. “I don’t want to upset her.”

“Of course not. Go on with Emma. Don’t want to upset her,” Parker muttered when the woman was out of earshot.

“Hell of a party so far,” Mal commented.

Parker tugged down her suit jacket, smoothed her skirt. “What are you doing here?”

“Just dropped by to collect my winnings.”

“I don’t have time for that now.” She dismissed him by turning to one of the subs. “Make sure all the glass is cleaned up, and any spilled champagne. If anything else is broken or damaged, tell one of Emma’s team so they can deal with it. Jack, track down the FOB, will you? I’ll need to speak with him in my office. Immediately.”

“Sure. Sorry it took me so long. I was outside when I got the alert.”

“I moonlighted as a bouncer in L.A.,” Mal told her. “In case you want anybody tossed.”

“Funny, and not completely out of the question. FOB, Jack, thanks. Mac,” she said into her headpiece as she hurried away.

“She sure moves.” Mal watched her zip across the room and out the door.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Jack said. “Let’s go find the FOB.”

“Jack? What the hell is an FOB?”

IN HER ROOM LAUREL EXAMINED THE APRICOT SILK DRESS SHE’D ordered Bibi to strip off. She could hear both the shower and the sobs through the bathroom door.

A few spots, a torn seam—could’ve been worse, she decided. Mrs. G would deal with it. And according to the emergency plan for just such situations, she knew Parker would have a hair and makeup team en route very shortly.

Her mission, and she had no choice but to accept it, was to keep Bibi calm, help put her back together, listen to her whine, bitch, and/or complain. And to get her to promise—with a blood oath if necessary—to behave herself through the rest of the event.

Smoothing her own disordered hair, she answered the knock on the door.

“Two glasses, as ordered.” Del eased in to set them on a table, and glanced toward the bathroom. “How’s it going?”

“Well, she’s down from sobs to whimpers. Here’s the dress. It’s not too bad. Parker would’ve given Mrs. G a heads-up, so she’ll be ready for it.”

“Okay.” He reached out to straighten her left earring. “Anything else I can do?”