Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Stop.”
She slices her eyes over to me and shrugs. “Whatever.”
I uncurl my fists at my sides and force myself to forgive her rudeness. “How are you? Really? Are you still living with Drew?”
“We broke up,” she says, flicking the pedal of an orchid before she sits down on one of the couches near the fireplace, making herself at home.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Are you?” Her eyes slice up to mine. “You hated him.”
For good reason. He was horrible to her, manipulative and emotionally abusive. I warned her to leave him years ago, and she never did. It’s the reason we grew apart, though now, seeing her here, I wonder if that’s really the only reason.
“I’m still sorry. I know you loved him.”
She sniffles in distaste and looks up at me. “Doesn’t matter now.”
I want to ask her why she’s here. The question is poised at the tip of my tongue, but I can’t work up the courage. It seems so rude, as if she couldn’t be here just to see me and catch up. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, so I do. I force myself to walk across the room and close the gap between us, sitting beside her on the couch and taking her hand in mine.
She’s stiff, but she doesn’t fight me.
I squeeze her hand and smile.
“I’m happy you’re here.”
She narrows her eyes. “Are you?”
“I’ve missed you. And you know I worry about you.”
Her gaze softens. “I worry about you too.”
Cornelia strolls into the room with Louis on her heels and finds us there, with our hands together. She smiles.
“I’m so happy to meet one of Maren’s friends,” she says to Ariana. “She’s so quiet about her past, I feel like she was born the day she arrived here at Rosethorn. Tell me, how long have you two known each other?”
“Since we were teenagers,” I answer. “Living in the same foster home.”
“I see. Was that the family you were with in high school? Before you turned eighteen?”
I nod and turn to Ariana, eager to change the subject.
“Where are you staying?”
She shrugs. “I took a bus down from Providence this morning.”
“Do you have plans to return today?” Cornelia asks. “You’re welcome to stay here. There’s plenty of room.”
“We have the gala later,” I remind her.
“Yes, of course. Ariana can come with us if she’d like. I’ll arrange it with the host. I’m sure she won’t mind one bit.”
Ariana isn’t given the chance to decline Cornelia’s offer. Almost as soon as it’s issued, Cornelia’s on the phone confirming Ariana’s attendance and then hauling us both up to my bedroom so we can pick a dress for Ariana to wear. It’s not easy. She’s slender where I’m curvy, so most of mine don’t fit her, and of those that do, only two are fancy enough for the event.
We land on a blue sleeveless dress with a slit up the left leg. The tie back makes it so we can tighten it around her chest and make it fit more snuggly. The lace overlay is beautiful against Ariana’s pale skin.
“Perfect,” Cornelia says, stepping back to admire my old friend. “Let me go make some more calls, and I’ll send Rita up in a few hours to help you both with hair and makeup. If I were you two, I’d rest until then. It’s going to be a long night.”
Once she’s gone, Ariana stays standing in front of the mirror, turning in a circle and looking at herself in the dress from different angles.
“Do you like it? You can pick something else if you want.”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine. Not really my taste, but I guess this thing we’re going to is pretty fancy?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never been.”
“Right.” She angles her back to me. “Will you untie this?”
I help her out of the dress and turn to give her privacy while she puts her clothes back on.
“I know this probably feels sudden, but I think you’ll enjoy coming with us tonight,” I offer, aware of the fact that she’s probably close to bailing on the whole thing.
“If you say so.”
She finishes changing then walks past me toward one of the windows that looks out onto the rose garden. She pushes the drapes back with her finger and studies the view before shaking her head and looking at me.
“So what are you doing here, exactly? Is this the room you stay in all the time?”
I nod, suddenly a little embarrassed by how fancy it all is. “Yes. I live here.”
“And you work here? Isn’t that what your messages said? That you were hired here?”
I wring my hands together. “Yes.”
“Why aren’t you wearing that rose uniform like everyone else? And how come that old lady is so nice to you?”
“Cornelia,” I say, emphasizing her name. “And that’s just her nature. She’s nice to everyone.”