Читать книгу A Cinderella Seduction - Karen Booth - Страница 12

Two

After a morning of crunching numbers, Emma found herself with Sophie in the private fitting room reserved for Eden’s most important customers. Emma had never tried clothes on in such a lavish setting. The room not only had a lovely sitting area with elegant upholstered slipper chairs in silvery velvet, it had especially flattering lighting, and came with a valet who took drink orders. For Eden’s wealthiest and most influential clients, this was their shopping experience—an oasis tucked away in a quiet corner of an otherwise bustling department store.

The valet appeared with two flutes of champagne.

“Really?” Emma asked, when Sophie offered her a glass. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“I’m hoping we’ll have a reason to toast and celebrate. I wanted to ask if you’ll be one of my bridesmaids.”

Emma could hardly believe what she was hearing. “Really?” As soon as she’d said it, she realized how inappropriate and knee-jerk her response was. If she didn’t want to feel like an outsider in this family, she had to stop assuming that role. “I mean, yes. Of course. I would love it. Such an honor.”

Sophie grinned and held out her glass. Emma clinked it with hers. “Perfect. I still need to figure out who’s designing the dresses, but I’ll let you know.”

Emma was in a state of delight and shock. Custom designed bridesmaids’ dresses? “Sounds wonderful.”

Sophie sank down onto one of the chairs, her skirt billowing in a poof. “It’s funny, but I think of Gram every time I drink champagne.”

“What was she like?” Emma sat in the chair opposite and took a small sip. It was so delicious. The bubbles tickled her nose.

“Gram was amazing. My idol, really. I loved her to pieces. But she rubbed some people the wrong way. She could be a ruthless businesswoman.”

Emma pushed back any sadness over not having known her grandmother. “All women have to be ruthless at some point, don’t they?”

Sophie eagerly nodded. “If they want to be a success, yes.”

“Speaking of which, I happened to notice that our exclusive arrangement with Nora Bradford still hasn’t been renewed.”

Sophie frowned. “I know. They’re dragging their feet. You know, we lost two of our exclusive designers in late December, right before you started. If we lose Nora, it would be devastating.”

“Why do you think this is happening?”

“People aren’t treating us the way they did when Gram was in charge.”

Emma took another sip. “Sounds like we need to get a few things in line.”

“I’m working on it. I’ll need your help at some point. For now, I’m hoping the dress I picked for tonight might help. It’s in the fitting room.”

“Dress? Singular?”

“I know I said I’d give you some choices, but this one is perfect. It just came in this morning. It’s one of our Nora Bradford exclusives.” Sophie shooed her into the fitting room. “Go on. Go look.”

Emma ducked inside the dressing area. On the hook was a dress she wouldn’t have dared to choose. Ice blue, strapless and sparkly and daring. It was so far outside her comfort zone it was in a different zip code. And maybe that was exactly what she needed.

Wasting no time, she shed her work clothes and slipped into the garment. “Can you help with the zipper?” she called.

Sophie poked her head inside and her face lit up. “That’s it. That’s the dress. It’s even better than I imagined. Now suck in your breath.”

With a quick zip, Emma was squeezed in. She looked down at herself. “I don’t know. I’ve never worn a strapless dress before and there’s all this fabric.” She fussed with the strips of pale blue organza that made up the skirt. If she stood still, her legs were hidden, but the second she moved, the strips swished open like streamers in the breeze. “What if I trip? And I can barely breathe.” The bodice was holding her tight, all the way down to her hips.

“Oh, there is no breathing in a strapless dress. Not if you want it to stay up all night. And really, you look incredible. It’s perfect for your body. You look sexy and glamorous.”

“I do?” If it wasn’t for the freckles on her cheeks and the earrings she wore every day, Emma wouldn’t have even known it was her.

“Yes. And the best part is I’ve instructed the department manager to keep the rest of the inventory off the showroom floor until tomorrow morning. You’ll be the only one at Empire State wearing this.”

Emma studied herself in the mirror, dropping her head to the side and swishing the skirt. The dress looked like magic. Maybe this really was the right choice. “Okay. This is the one.”

Sophie grinned with pride and clapped her hands on Emma’s shoulders. “I don’t want you to be nervous about tonight. You’ll be amazing. And I’ll be there the whole time, okay?”

Emma felt so much better than she had that morning. “Thank you for helping me. And thank you for asking me to be a bridesmaid. That means a lot to me.”

“Of course. You’re my sister. It only seems right that you’d be a part of my wedding.”

Emma had never felt so optimistic. Sophie was making such an effort to include her. Emma was starting to feel like a real part of the Eden clan, less like a person who was unwittingly plopped down in the middle of it. She would get what she’d missed out on during her twenty-seven years in the world—a close relationship with siblings, the camaraderie of an extended family. She felt sure of it now.

From the bench in the corner, Emma’s phone buzzed. “Oh, shoot. I have a call.” Back to reality.

“I’ll help you out of the dress. Then I need to get Lizzie to order me some lunch.”

Emma changed and raced upstairs. One of Eden’s personal shoppers steamed the gown and delivered it to her office, along with a pair of strappy silver Blahniks Sophie had picked out. The dress was the only thing Emma looked at as she finished up her call. The fabric, the style, the price tag—it all seemed unreal, as if it wasn’t meant for her.

Mindy appeared in Emma’s office doorway around three. “The hair and makeup people are here, but we have a problem. Sophie’s sick.”

“Is she okay?”

Mindy shook her head. “A stomach bug or something she ate. I sent her home. I don’t see any way she can come tonight. Looks like it’s just you and me.”

Great. The sister who hates me. Emma felt queasy herself. Her security blanket was gone. “Oh. Okay.”

“We need to leave right at five or we’ll get stuck in traffic forever. I’ll send in the hair and makeup people.”

Emma was now not only nervous, she was dreading tonight. Before she had time to think about it, a man and a woman invaded her office with brushes, hair clips, a curling iron, and every shade of lipstick and type of hair product you could imagine. They wheeled her across her office in her chair and parked her in front of a full-length mirror they’d brought.

The male stylist took her hair out of the ponytail and tutted. “I’m Anthony. This is going to take a while.”

The makeup artist at least offered a smile. “I’m Charity. It’s going to take me some time, too.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’m Emma.”

“We know,” they answered in unison.

Charity dug through a case of makeup, picking up tubes and examining the colors. “I’m going to cover your freckles, if that’s okay.” She pointed to Emma’s cheeks.

“I like them.”

Charity shook her head. “I don’t think they’ll photograph well. There will be paparazzi tonight. You want to look good.”

Emma hadn’t taken the time to think about the fate of her freckles, and definitely not photographers. “Do whatever you need to do.”

The duo went to work, tugging and dabbing, prodding and pulling, spraying and spritzing. Emma kept her eyes closed whenever possible. They were doing too many things that she would never do to herself.

“Voilà,” Anthony said a good forty-five minutes later. He was like Michelangelo presenting a masterpiece.

Emma opened her eyes and blinked several times. If it wasn’t for the same clothes she’d worn to work, she never would have known it was her. Her hair was tugged back in a dramatic updo, she had long false lashes and smoky eyes. She looked fantastic, practically ready for the cover of a magazine. So this was what it was like to be glamorous.

“Wow,” was all she could say.

“Emma, you are a stunning woman if you put some work into it,” Charity said.

Perhaps that was her problem. She hadn’t been trying hard enough. “Thank you so much. Both of you.”

“Call us anytime.”

Not wanting Mindy to be angry with her, Emma closed and locked her office door and dressed. She called in Lizzie to help with the zipper.

“You are so lucky,” Lizzie said, looking at Emma with eyes full of wistful envy. It was a bizarre feeling. Emma and Lizzie were more alike than she and Sophie or Mindy.

“Maybe we can figure out a way for you to come with us next year.”

“Really?”

Emma nodded. “In fact, I promise to do whatever I can to make it happen, okay?”

Lizzie grinned from ear to ear. “Wow. Something to look forward to.”

Mindy walked in wearing a supershort magenta dress with a plunging neckline and sky-high Christian Louboutins with the signature red bottoms. She surveyed Emma’s new look. “They did wonders. You hardly look like yourself at all.”

Gee, thanks. “You look great, too.”

Lizzie rushed out of the room when the reception phone started to ring.

“Hey, so, I need a favor from you tonight,” Mindy said, digging through one of her prized Hermès clutches. “I have a friend meeting me there, so I won’t be able to spend much time with you. But I don’t want you to tell Sophie.”

“Does this friend happen to be the guy that Sophie doesn’t like?”

Mindy pursed her lips. “His name is Sam, okay? He’s in town for a few days and I really want to see him. And yes, Sophie hates him. But that’s her problem, not mine. It has something to do with her fiancé, Jake.”

Emma was tempted to ask what was in it for her to keep the secret but decided against it. She needed to forge a connection with Mindy, somehow. “Okay. My lips are zipped.”

“Awesome. I owe you one.”

Well, that was something. “No problem.”

Mindy’s phone beeped with a text. “My driver’s here.”

Downstairs, they climbed into the back of a black stretch SUV. As they whizzed through the city, Emma tried to ignore her nerves. She tried to ignore that little voice inside her head that said that every last person at this event was going to know she didn’t belong. There was only so much refinement she could fake. What if someone asked her where she went to school and she forgot the canned story Sophie and Mindy had cooked up about private school in France? What if someone asked about her family and she accidentally blurted the truth, that until three months ago, she was the deep dark family secret? Even worse, what if no one asked her anything at all?

As the driver pulled into the line of limousines and black town cars, Emma could see the paparazzi’s camera flashes popping like crazy. The red carpet. Emma’s stomach wobbled. She wasn’t practiced in the art of posing for cameras. She didn’t know how to hold her head at the right angle or slant her leg to make herself look skinny, or even how to properly plant her hand on her hip. This could be a disaster.

“Anything I need to know about this first part?” she asked Mindy.

Her half sister eyed herself in a compact mirror, them clamped it shut. “Follow my lead. You’ll be fine.”

Mindy climbed out of the car first and Emma followed. A woman with a clipboard was checking names, but she took one glance at Mindy and knew exactly who she was. “Mindy Eden. Nice to see you. Who do you have with you tonight?” the woman asked, her tone syrupy.

“My sister Emma.”

A deep crease formed between the woman’s eyes. “I thought your sister was Sophie.”

“Long story,” was all Mindy said, patting the woman on the shoulder and waving Emma ahead.

Emma stepped onto the red carpet, her heart thundering in her chest. She followed every move Mindy made, mimicking her stance and posture, every elegant quality Emma did not possess naturally. The paparazzi were quite taken with the couple in front of them, but then a few spotted Mindy and she quickly became their focus.

“Mindy! Over here!”

“This way, Mindy!”

Emma didn’t know what to do, so she hung back, letting the photographers focus on her sister. Mindy smiled effortlessly, turning her head just so, shaking her shiny red tresses with all the confidence in the world. She was such a pro. Emma felt like a kid standing on the edge of the pool with water wings.

“Who’s with you tonight?” a photographer asked.

Mindy cast her sights at Emma. Emma worried that Mindy might throw her under the bus and pretend she didn’t know her.

“My youngest sister, Emma, of course.” She reached for her hand, and before Emma knew what was happening, a million flashbulbs went off as she stood next to Mindy. These strangers were taking her picture and saying her name.

Emma! Emma!

Mindy stepped back and left Emma at center stage. She smiled, willing her face to be relaxed and natural. She planted her hand on her hip in what she hoped was the appropriate place.

Why are we just meeting you now, Emma?

She hadn’t prepared for questions. “I’ve been living in France. Just came back to the States to help my sisters run Eden’s.”

Who are you wearing?

“Nora Bradford, of course. The gown is an Eden’s exclusive. It’ll be available in the store starting tomorrow.” She glanced down for an instant and knew that if she didn’t move, they’d miss the most dramatic part of the design. Hands on her hips, she turned in a circle, the skirt flying up and showing off her legs. She was nearly blinded by flashbulbs when she’d completed the three-sixty.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mindy mumbled in her ear.

“Did I make a mistake?” Emma asked nervously.

“It was fine. You just can’t give them too much.”

She and Mindy strolled the remaining length of the red carpet and stepped into a lavish room already packed with people. Emma’s eyes were still adjusting from the bright lights of the cameras to the moodier party atmosphere, but she could see enough to know that beauty was everywhere.

Mindy tapped Emma on the shoulder. “Sam’s here.” She waved across the room, and sure enough, a tall and handsome man with jet-black hair waved back. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait,” Emma blurted. “Will I see you at our seats?”

Mindy was distracted by her quickly approaching guy. “I’ll be with Sam. Not sure where I’ll see you. My driver will take you home. You have his number?”

Emma nodded. Mindy’s driver had taken her all over the city before she had a driver of her own. “I do.”

Just like that, Mindy was gone. Emma turned to the crowd, unsure what to do. She disliked being by herself. If Sophie had been able to come, Emma still would have been the person nobody knew, but at least she wouldn’t have been alone. In this big room filled with fabulous people, she felt insignificant. Like a speck of dust floating around everyone’s head, unnoticed.

A waiter walked by with a tray topped with glasses of champagne. Emma snagged one and took a long sip. Then another. She scanned the room, and for an instant, she wondered if she’d already had too much to drink. Either that or an optical illusion was walking into the room. Her heart nearly stopped beating. It was Mr. Brit from her building. Sure, he’d been less than friendly in the elevator, but she was now officially intrigued. His accent alone had been enough to interest her, but was he somehow involved in fashion? Perhaps a wealthy investor? Hopefully, he wasn’t one of those men who habitually dated models.

She studied him as inconspicuously as possible, sucking down the last of her champagne. Damn, he looked good in a tux. Ridiculously good. Like it had been sewn around his broad shoulders. His light brown hair was a bit of a tousled mess, but she liked that about him. It made him seem human. Everything else about him was a little too perfect—the five o’clock shadow, the kissable lips, the way he could see over the top of nearly everyone in the crowd. For a moment, she imagined herself combing her fingers through his bed-head hair and allowing her hands to get completely lost.

But the best thing about Mr. Brit was that he seemed to be alone. Just like her. Did she have the nerve to approach him? They did have a slight rapport. There was at least a starting point for a conversation. And she still had the questions she’d cooked up in the elevator. She could likely hold her own for a good ten minutes.

As if he sensed she was watching him, he turned his head. Their gazes connected. Emma would’ve looked away if he didn’t have her so locked in. His eyes were like a tractor beam designed to pull her across the room. And maybe that was precisely what she needed to do.