Winter White (14 page)

Mira watched her give a little spin in front of a small mirror. “Vanna, it’s gorgeous.”

Savannah admired her own reflection. “Then it’s settled. I’m taking it. The others, too. One of these might make the perfect sweet-sixteen dress.”

“I thought you already had one of those,” Mira reminded her. Actually, Savannah already had several.

“I’m not a hundred percent decided.” She spun around again. “This could be a winner, and if it’s not, who cares? It will like life in my closet. I can’t let Daddy’s credit card go to waste.”

Mira’s parents were cool about letting her get whatever she wanted, too, but she never took total advantage. After trying on several dresses herself, she decided to take the gray chiffon one that made her feel like she belonged on a red carpet. She could wear it to the cocktail party tomorrow night.

“What’s the verdict, ladies?” Mira’s mom strode toward her and Savannah with Mrs. Ingram. “Vivian and I were thinking we could have dinner together before heading home.”

Savannah clutched her nonexistent stomach. “Nothing for me. I need to fit into this dress tomorrow night.”

“I’m sure they have salad,” Mrs. Ingram said. “Do you want to change so we can go?”

“Where’s Isabelle?” Mira’s mom asked. “She’s been so quiet I forgot she was here.”

“I didn’t,” Savannah casually whispered to Mira.

“I didn’t see her leave,” Mira said, feeling bad for completely abandoning her cousin. She had been so immersed in her and Savannah’s dresses that she hadn’t checked on her once.

“Isabelle?” Mira’s mom tried again.

A door at the end of the row creaked open, and Izzie emerged in the floor-length navy dress Mira had seen her admiring earlier. The silk strapless gown fit her perfectly, falling to the floor in a cascade of layers. Mira felt her jaw go slack. Who knew Izzie had those curves? She was a knockout.

“Isabelle, you look stunning,” Mira’s mom said, gaping. “Doesn’t she look stunning?”

Mrs. Ingram’s and Savannah’s lips were pursed shut, but Savannah couldn’t take her eyes off her.

“You have to wear that dress to the party,” Mira said without thinking, and Savannah gave her a sharp look.

Izzie glanced in the mirror. “You really think so?” Mira could see the corners of her mouth turn upward. It was more than okay, even if she wouldn’t admit it. “It’s on sale for a hundred and fifty dollars. Is that okay?” she asked Mira’s mom as if it was out of the question. “It has a small lipstick stain, so maybe they’ll take more off.”

“It has a stain?” Savannah repeated, looking from Izzie back to Mira. “Make them bring you a new gown!”

“It’s on clearance. There aren’t any more,” Catherine said, walking up behind them. Savannah resisted the urge to smirk. “And we don’t usually do discounts.”

“I’m sure we can, uh, talk to the manager about getting a discount if this is the last dress. Right, Catherine?” Mira’s mom said slowly. Discounts were something new to her. “It really suits you, but you’re going to need more than one dress this season. Are you sure you don’t want the Tadashi Shoji as well?”

Izzie shot both girls a look. “I don’t need a thousand-dollar dress. I love this one, and if I need more, I’m sure we can find others below the two-hundred-dollar mark. It seems insane to spend more than that on one dress.”

“That’s very sensible, Isabelle,” Mira’s mom agreed, as if it were a foreign concept. She looked proudly at her niece.

“Excellent bargain hunter you have here, Maureen,” Mrs. Ingram said.

Mira’s mom nodded. “You girls change, and we’ll meet you by the registers.”

Mira’s face flamed as she stared at her own dress. It cost over a thousand dollars. Savannah’s loot was three times that. That comment was definitely meant for them. She looked at Savannah. Mira thought she was going to start hurling hangers at Izzie like swords.

Izzie didn’t say anything, but Mira caught the small smile creep onto her face before the door shut. Savannah saw it, too.

Mira turned to gauge Savannah’s reaction. Her best friend hated nothing more than being burned—especially in public. “Vanna, I…”

“Forget it. It’s not your fault.” Savannah put her arm around Mira and walked her back to her fitting room. “It’s
hers
. That little street urchin,” she whispered, “needs to be shown her place.”

Ten

Izzie wondered if someone else’s reflection was staring back at her. How else could she explain the girl in the mirror wearing the expensive fairy-tale gown?

Isabelle Scott did not own eight-hundred-dollar dresses. She didn’t even own eight-hundred-dollar dresses marked down to a hundred and twenty-five dollars and fifty cents thanks to a lipstick stain. She loved this dress and couldn’t believe her aunt expected her to only wear it once. (Apparently, wearing the same dress twice in a season was frowned upon in EC.)

How could she wear a dress like this only one time? Look how it swayed when she moved! She’d sleep in this dress if she could. Izzie never considered herself a dress kind of girl—and certainly not a heels girl—but now that she had both on, she had to admit her aunt was right: Good clothes made a person feel different. She could almost sense her posture improving and her confidence returning. Emerald Cove was nothing like Harborside, but maybe in a dress that made a person feel like Cinderella, she could make things work.

But she couldn’t forget what had happened to Cinderella when the clock struck midnight. The gown may have made her look like a born and bred Emerald Cove kid, but inside, she still felt twisted like a pretzel. One day she felt like she was getting the hang of things, and the next she wanted to take the first bus back to Harborside. At least once a day she asked herself the same question.
What am I doing here?
she wondered again as she looked around her new room.

Her aunt had left catalogs on her bed earlier in the week with a note:
We want you to make your room your own! Just circle whatever you like!
She’d never had a room makeover before. Her furniture at Grams’s was her mom’s when she was a kid and it had definitely seen better days. But just when she started getting excited, that nagging guilt would return, especially when she flipped through the catalog and saw the prices. Seventy dollars for a lamp
base
? Five hundred dollars for an area rug? She didn’t have the heart to circle a thing. How could she ask her aunt and uncle to drop that kind of money on her when they’d done so much already? In one week, she had gotten a computer, a new phone, a bedroom set, and a full wardrobe. She’d never spent this much on clothes.
Ever.

Her aunt was too smart for her. She saw the folded page in the catalog for the black-and-white floral room that Izzie secretly loved, and two days later it was delivered. Izzie had a new bed with built-in bookshelves, a desk, a black-and-white floral comforter, curtains, and a black-and-white polka-dot area rug.
I hired a painter to paint your room next Thursday to match the one in the catalog!
said a note on her bed. It all still felt like a dream. She had such mixed emotions, though, and she missed Grams so much. She missed her mom, too. Seeing the new bed only reminded her more of the old one. The paint had peeled so badly her mom used to tell her it was because her bed was made from a washed-up pirate ship. For years Izzie had thought she might find treasure buried inside.

“Isabelle?” Her aunt knocked on the door, even though it was slightly ajar. She was wearing an incredible cream silk dress and four-inch pointy heels. Her hair was swept into a bun and her makeup looked professionally done. In her hands, she held two small velvet boxes. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Izzie said.

“So you like your room?” her aunt asked hopefully.

“I love it,” Izzie admitted, looking around again. “Thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetie. This room is you.” Aunt Maureen looked at her appraisingly. “And so is that dress. I’m glad you picked that one. So reasonably priced, too, and the dry cleaner did wonders with that lipstick stain. You can’t even tell there was one!” She thumbed the fabric.

Her aunt tried so hard, Izzie thought. “It worked like a charm at the Harborside Army/Navy Store.”

Her aunt’s eyes lit up. “Do you know that place? My Emerald Cove Cares group is partnering with them for a fund-raiser for their community center. They have practically nothing in the way of an arts program, so we’re trying to get one off the ground. The whole place is falling apart. They’ve been holding dance classes with a boom box! Can you imagine?” She shook her head, her chandelier diamond earrings swaying. “We’re going to do a fashion show next month, something mother-daughter again, maybe to raise funds for a sound system and art classes. I was hoping to get a floral arrangement class there, too. Knowing how to pair a peony with a sunflower is a definite skill,” she said, and Izzie bit her lip.

“You might be wasting your money on that one,” Izzie said delicately. “A gymnastics program, on the other hand, would be awesome. We’ve wanted one forever, but there’s no money to buy equipment.” She felt herself growing excited at the thought of the community center getting a room makeover of sorts, too. “Art classes are big. If you could get someone to do a class on tagging in murals so people don’t do that on fence posts, that would be huge. The boom box works fine for dance class, but what the community center really needs is more teachers. If they had a hip-hop class, do you know how many kids would sign up? There are a ton of kids who want to be there. There just aren’t enough programs to go around.”

Her aunt looked pale as she slid her tennis bracelet back and forth on her wrist. “I… you… I didn’t know that was your community center.”

“Only one around. It’s not really falling down,” Izzie added. “It could use a face-lift, but, hey, at least it’s still open. The state keeps trying to shut it down due to lack of funding. If it wasn’t for that place, I certainly wouldn’t have learned how to swim.” That gave her an idea. “If you’re doing a fund-raiser, I could help. If you want.”

Her aunt still looked rattled, but she managed a small smile. “I’d like that. You almost made me forget why I came in here. These are for you.” She patted the boxes on her lap. “I thought your dress might need some accessories, and this Swarovski crystal cuff bracelet and necklace might do the trick. I also brought some earrings.” She frowned. “Do you have pierced ears?” Izzie held back her hair and revealed double holes and one near the top of her earlobe. “Oh, I only bought one pair, but…” She took Izzie’s wavy hair in her hands and pulled it off her face. “They’ll work. How do you feel about pulling your hair off your face?”

A half hour later, Izzie felt like a pincushion. By the time her aunt was done with her hair and makeup, even her own reflection didn’t recognize her. Izzie felt herself grow hopeful.
Tonight is going to be different
, she thought. If people at the party hadn’t been told she was Bill Monroe’s orphaned niece, they’d never know she didn’t belong there.

Her aunt stood behind her and smiled approvingly. “I think you’re ready for your first Emerald Cove party.”

Eleven

As the town car inched toward the boathouse valet, Mira got goose bumps. She was a sucker for parties and the first one of the season was always a good time. The boathouse was the perfect venue. It overlooked the bay, which meant there was a chance of catching a perfect sunset, and her mom’s charity group had made sure every detail not under Mother Nature’s control was set to wow. Catering trucks had been on-site for days, floral arrangements sprouted out of every planter, the valet was jammed with attendants, and there was an orchestra and a DJ. Mira watched as beautifully dressed couples and classmates emerged from town cars ahead of hers (no one drove themselves to these things).

Tonight had all the makings of a perfect evening, and it hadn’t even started yet. She didn’t have to babysit Connor because he was too young to attend, her mom and dad would be unofficially campaigning, and Hayden was working with her dad. All she had to do was figure out what to do with Izzie. She glanced at her cousin across the seat. Izzie looked like she wanted to throw up, but she had total wow factor going for her in that dress. Mira had to primp for hours to look this good. She’d gone for a spray tan before slipping into the gray cocktail dress and strappy gladiator heels. Her hair had been pinched in curlers for hours to look this bouncy.