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Authors: Jessica Starre
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her blue eyes. Brianna closed her eyes. Jasmine’s tail thumped against her arm.
“I told him I didn’t care he was sorry,” she said.
“I wouldn’t care either, Bree,” Natalie said stoutly, which probably wasn’t true. She would care. She would think it mattered. She was a nice person, that was the difference.
Brianna flung an arm over her eyes to keep the tears from leaking out. “I told him ‘sorry’ wasn’t enough. I wanted repayment.”
Jasmine’s tail thumped harder, which meant Natalie was rubbing her belly. “Wow. What did you mean by that?”
“I have no idea.”
Natalie made a sound and Brianna lifted her arm away from her eyes to give her a suspicious look. “You’re
laughing
?”
“At us,” Natalie said. “I mean … we might as well wear big ‘Loser’ signs. We don’t even know what we want.”
Brianna shifted onto her elbow and said, “We know what we want. It’s just … things keep getting in our way. I want to keep paying the bills, so we don’t end up on the streets. I want to make a go of Once in a Lifetime. I want Richard to fade back into the shadows where he came from and leave me alone. I was doing fine without him.”
I want Mr. G to notice me. I want to call him Matthias, like friends. Like lovers.
If you couldn’t even say it, how could you make it come true?
“What do you want, Nat?” Brianna asked, and then realized it was a stupid question. Natalie wanted to
live
, that was what Natalie wanted.
“I want to go to the ball,” Natalie said, her fingers stilling in Jasmine’s fur, a slight smile on her face.
“The ball?” Brianna said, sitting up and staring.
“You always talk about the Cooper-Renfield gala as if it were the biggest pain in the ass.”
“It is. I keep trying to think up ways to get out of going, but I have to be there in case the caterer put the wrong date on her calendar or the violinist tries to stab the cellist again.”
Natalie wasn’t paying any attention to her. She was apparently looking at a picture only she could see. “All I can imagine is the music and the fairy lights and everyone so beautiful … ”
That was the magic that Brianna tried to pull off behind the scenes, but when you were in charge of the magic, it didn’t seem so magic anymore. It was just a lot of hard work and headaches.
“How come you’ve never said so?” she asked.
Natalie shrugged. “I’m not a donor. I’ll never get invited.”
“Nat, I
work
there. I’m in charge of the gala arrangements. I can write you a damned invitation.”
Natalie was looking down at Jasmine, not at Brianna. “I don’t have a dress or anything.”
“They rent them in town,” Brianna said. “It can’t be that expensive. Seriously, how could I not know this about you? If you want to go to the ball — ”
“I want to dance in the moonlight and drink champagne.”
“It’s not that thrilling.”
“I want to do it anyway. I want to see what men look like up close in their tuxedos.”
Brianna smiled. “They look exactly how you think they’re going to look.”
“And the women in their dresses.”
“They’re all so high-minded they’re incapable of holding an amusing conversation.”
“And caviar. I want to taste caviar one time in my life.”
“It’s very salty. And, ew.”
“And then I’ll lose my glass slipper at midnight,” Natalie said, leaning back against the pillows with a contented sigh, looking pale and tired.
“Okay, so I put off painting the house until next year. This year, you go to the ball.”
“You weren’t going to paint the house anyway,” Natalie said, and smiled.
• • •
Brianna shoved her arms in her coat sleeves, grabbed her purse, and stepped over the threshold. She was supposed to meet Virginia Drake at one to go over the plans for her daughter’s sweet sixteenth birthday, but she had promised Natalie she’d go look at dresses at Luxury to Lend and that had taken longer than she’d thought it would
“I told him I didn’t care he was sorry,” she said.
“I wouldn’t care either, Bree,” Natalie said stoutly, which probably wasn’t true. She would care. She would think it mattered. She was a nice person, that was the difference.
Brianna flung an arm over her eyes to keep the tears from leaking out. “I told him ‘sorry’ wasn’t enough. I wanted repayment.”
Jasmine’s tail thumped harder, which meant Natalie was rubbing her belly. “Wow. What did you mean by that?”
“I have no idea.”
Natalie made a sound and Brianna lifted her arm away from her eyes to give her a suspicious look. “You’re
laughing
?”
“At us,” Natalie said. “I mean … we might as well wear big ‘Loser’ signs. We don’t even know what we want.”
Brianna shifted onto her elbow and said, “We know what we want. It’s just … things keep getting in our way. I want to keep paying the bills, so we don’t end up on the streets. I want to make a go of Once in a Lifetime. I want Richard to fade back into the shadows where he came from and leave me alone. I was doing fine without him.”
I want Mr. G to notice me. I want to call him Matthias, like friends. Like lovers.
If you couldn’t even say it, how could you make it come true?
“What do you want, Nat?” Brianna asked, and then realized it was a stupid question. Natalie wanted to
live
, that was what Natalie wanted.
“I want to go to the ball,” Natalie said, her fingers stilling in Jasmine’s fur, a slight smile on her face.
“The ball?” Brianna said, sitting up and staring.
“You always talk about the Cooper-Renfield gala as if it were the biggest pain in the ass.”
“It is. I keep trying to think up ways to get out of going, but I have to be there in case the caterer put the wrong date on her calendar or the violinist tries to stab the cellist again.”
Natalie wasn’t paying any attention to her. She was apparently looking at a picture only she could see. “All I can imagine is the music and the fairy lights and everyone so beautiful … ”
That was the magic that Brianna tried to pull off behind the scenes, but when you were in charge of the magic, it didn’t seem so magic anymore. It was just a lot of hard work and headaches.
“How come you’ve never said so?” she asked.
Natalie shrugged. “I’m not a donor. I’ll never get invited.”
“Nat, I
work
there. I’m in charge of the gala arrangements. I can write you a damned invitation.”
Natalie was looking down at Jasmine, not at Brianna. “I don’t have a dress or anything.”
“They rent them in town,” Brianna said. “It can’t be that expensive. Seriously, how could I not know this about you? If you want to go to the ball — ”
“I want to dance in the moonlight and drink champagne.”
“It’s not that thrilling.”
“I want to do it anyway. I want to see what men look like up close in their tuxedos.”
Brianna smiled. “They look exactly how you think they’re going to look.”
“And the women in their dresses.”
“They’re all so high-minded they’re incapable of holding an amusing conversation.”
“And caviar. I want to taste caviar one time in my life.”
“It’s very salty. And, ew.”
“And then I’ll lose my glass slipper at midnight,” Natalie said, leaning back against the pillows with a contented sigh, looking pale and tired.
“Okay, so I put off painting the house until next year. This year, you go to the ball.”
“You weren’t going to paint the house anyway,” Natalie said, and smiled.
• • •
Brianna shoved her arms in her coat sleeves, grabbed her purse, and stepped over the threshold. She was supposed to meet Virginia Drake at one to go over the plans for her daughter’s sweet sixteenth birthday, but she had promised Natalie she’d go look at dresses at Luxury to Lend and that had taken longer than she’d thought it would
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