Read Online The Juliet Club by Suzanne Harper - Free Book Online Page A

absolutely stupendous.” His buoyancy restored, he plunged eagerly into the crowd, calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll find you later! Have fun!”
    In a far corner of the ballroom, Silvia di Napoli was attracting attention. She didn’t have to see the shocked sidelong glances directed at her, or hear the appalled comments, or observe the dismayed expressions. She could feel the reaction of the crowd, and she reveled in it.
    She leaned against the wall, holding a tall fluted glass of prosecco in one hand. Her pose was the picture of nonchalance, but it was, in fact, calculated to achieve exactly the effect she wanted. Silvia had chosen her dress tonight with great care. It was made from a silvery material that clung to her body like molten metal and then flowed to the floor, where it puddled at her feet and made the mere act of walking an adventure in staying upright. As if to make up for all the extra material lying on the floor, the middle had been cut out to reveal an angel-wing tattoo that stretched across her midriff. It was her latest move in a long-running campaign to drive her parents mad. They didn’t have to know that it was only a temporary tattoo. At least not right away.
    She had styled her dark brown hair so that it stood out around her head in a wild, gravity-defying halo, outlined her large eyes with smoky eyeliner and purplish gray eyeshadow, and coated her lips with a deep red color that bordered on black. In a nod to the formal nature of the evening, she had finally decided to put just one silver hoop in her right ear and three in the left. Still, she was satisfied that she looked threatening and dangerous and rebellious—the exact opposite, in other words, of the insipid hometown heroine, Juliet.
    As she glanced casually around the room, Silvia noticed many of her parents’ friends, all pillars of the community, all stodgy and conservative, and all secretly thankful that their daughters weren’t like her. She saw Benno, who gave her a cheeky wink and was immediately scolded by the head waiter. And then she spotted the mayor of Verona, who was holding court with the town’s more influential and wealthy citizens.
    Silvia wrinkled her nose in disdain. The mayor was a short man who wore custom-made shoes with two-inch heels. He was a proud man who insisted on adding a silly scarlet sash to his tuxedo for official occasions. And, most damning of all, he was a completely embarrassing man who also happened to be her father.
    His gaze locked with hers and his cheerful grin slipped for just a moment. Then, quick as a blink, it was back, and he was tactfully excusing himself from the conversation in order to head in her direction. Silvia braced herself. By the time he got to her side, his normally ruddy face had flushed a deep purple and she could see a vein pulsing in his forehead.
    â€œ Ciao , papà,” she said in as deadpan a voice as she could manage. “You look very well this evening. Quite dashing.”
    He couldn’t help himself; he glanced down and preened for just a moment before he remembered that this was his daughter speaking. She hadn’t said anything that wasn’t sarcastic since she turned thirteen. He felt a touch of nostalgia for the twelve-year-old Silvia, who had papered her bedroom walls with photos of clean-cut pop stars and cute puppies, who had begged to go to work with him just so they could be together, who had blushed if a neighbor chided her for being too loud. . . .
    But that Silvia was gone. In her place was this, this alien who said everything with a sneer and eyed him disdainfully and made him feel like the oldest, most ridiculous man on earth.
    â€œMore to the point, I am dressed appropriately,” he said. He realized that he was gritting his teeth. He remembered what his dentist had said about cracked molars, and made a conscious effort to relax his jaw. “You, on the other hand—” He glanced at the