My father’s hard expression slips, and just for a moment I see the desperation underneath. He’s a man holding on to the ledge. And one of these days, he’s going to get a push—from the man sitting on his desk.
Byron’s genial expression doesn’t fool me for a second. “I convinced him you were a big girl,” he says with a wink. “You are, aren’t you?”
What a creep. “Of course I am.”
The look he gives my body then is bold and disgusting. His gaze settles on my breasts, and big girl takes on a totally different meaning. The corner of his mouth lifts in a slight sneer. I feel like I could shower for days and never get clean.
“Can I go now?” I ask, keeping my voice as even as possible. “I have to figure out a dress if I’m going to the party tomorrow night.”
“Of course,” my father says, waving me off.
“Oh, and Clara.” Byron fingers a pen in a way that somehow looks menacing. “Be sure to look your best. There are some friends of mine I’m having you meet.”
* * *
I wasn’t exaggerating about the dress. Having spent most of my life cooped up in my bedroom or the library, I don’t have the kind of fancy dresses everyone will be wearing tonight.
“You can wear one of mine,” Honor says when I tell her the good news. Well, somewhat good news. The prospect of going to the party seemed less exciting after that creepy look from Byron. And his mention of friends. I have no desire to meet anyone he’d call a friend.
Still, I can’t deny that I’m excited. My first party.
“There’s no way that’s going to work,” I tell her honestly.
Honor is slender. And I’m…not. I’m five years younger than Honor, but somehow my bust is actually bigger. So are my hips.
She rolls her eyes and still manages to look classy and mature while she does it. “We’ll make a few alterations if we have to.”
“I
f we have to? Oh, we’ll have to. And by alterations, I’m guessing you mean adding an entire extra dress. Like if we tie two together, there might be enough fabric.”
Her lips twist disapprovingly. “We aren’t that different, Clara.”
Yeah, right. We’re different in every way. Her black hair to my pale. Her smooth olive skin to my pink freckled skin. Her slim body to my full one. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re beautiful.”
“What are you talking about? Clara, you’re gorgeous. There are women who’d love to have your curves. And your pretty hair.”
I just stare at her. I don’t believe her at all.
She sighs. She must know I’m a lost cause. “You have no idea how adorable your freckles are, do you?”
“Just what every girl wants to be. Adorable. You look like Audrey Hepburn come to life.”
That makes her laugh. “Wouldn’t that be nice. I could go off on a holiday in Rome.”
“You’d have to escape first,” I remind her. That’s how the movie goes. We’ve both watched it a hundred times. There’s only so many things you can do while stuck in a mansion. Read a book. Practice yoga with a DVD instructor.
“Well,” she says lightly. “That can be for later. For now, we need to get you dressed. And I have an idea.”
She digs through her closet and comes up with a black wrap dress. The fabric has enough give that I can fit into it. It expands to accommodate my hips, falling above my knees instead of below, looking flirty instead of vintage. It’s cute.
I stare at myself in the mirror. Really cute.
Except…
“That’s not going to cut it,” Honor says, staring at my cleavage. It’s hard not to stare. My cleavage is practically busting out of this dress, straining at the top.
So much for looking my best. “I’m hopeless.”