Charlotte stood in six-inch heels and looked like an Amazon goddess. Her hair had been cornrowed back on both sides, leaving a soft mane of finger coils down the middle. She was being pinned or maybe sewn into the dress she was wearing, which was exotic and looked like stained glass or a painting of the inside of a kaleidoscope. Not practical for everyday wear, but clearly a piece of art.
She turned to face me with bright purple lipstick and rhinestoned eyelashes. “Natalie! Oh, I’m so glad that you were able to make it. Is my brother being an ass yet?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Not yet.”
“Well, don’t let him fool you.”
“I don’t know how she can be fooled with us two around,” Etta said, slinking her arm across my shoulders.
“Fair point,” Charlotte conceded.
“You two are hilarious. You love your brother.”
Both girls sniffed as if I’d insulted them even if it was the truth. I understood that. Melanie and I hadn’t always been close, definitely not close like they were, but she was my sister.
“Okay, before we forget,” Charlotte said, “what are your plans on Tuesday?”
I shrugged. “No plans. Just writing.”
“You should come to make our annual gingerbread houses,” Etta added.
“You make gingerbread houses every year?” I asked.
“It’s tradition,” Charlotte said with a smile.
“Our mom is a gingerbread connoisseur,” Etta explained.
“Like, the best in the city. You had her cooking. It’s fine. But the gingerbread houses? Those are spectacular.”
“And now, Lewis can’t back out of inviting you,” Etta said with a pointed eye roll.
I laughed. “You two are devious.”
“He’d say the same thing,” Charlotte said.
I shook my head at their careful maneuvering. “You look amazing, by the way.”
“It’s all Elizabeth. She is a genius. Seriously, pure genius.”
“Why, thank you, Charlotte,” a voice said as a stunning woman appeared next to Charlotte, inspecting her dress. She pointed out a few things, and the other man working on her dress went to work.
“Oh, Natalie, this is Elizabeth Cunningham,” Charlotte said.
Elizabeth turned her keen, dark eyes on me. She was a woman who was reported to be in her early fifties but didn’t look a day over thirty-five. I didn’t know if it was plastic surgery or amazing genetics. Her dark brown hair was artfully twisted on her head, and she wore a crisp black and white dress that was beyond stunning on her.
“So, you’re the woman Jane had me send another dress over for.” Elizabeth stepped forward and checked the fit on my dress. “Ah yes, the woman at Bergdorf sent over your exact measurements. It looks perfect with your hair. So unique.”
“Why…thank you,” I whispered, in awe of the designer before me in her natural element.
“Who normally dresses you?” Elizabeth asked. She tapped her lips, as if sizing me up.
“What do you mean?”
“For appearances. What designer do you prefer?” Elizabeth asked me with a predatory smile. “Oh, I don’t care who I’m going to piss off. Let me dress you for your next appearance. I know exactly what line to pair with that silver hair. Where will you be seen next?”
My eyes shot to Etta’s and Charlotte’s, frozen in shock. I didn’t make appearances. I wasn’t a socialite. Surely, Elizabeth was mistaken. She couldn’t possibly want to feature me with her clothes.
“She’s going to the Percy wedding with us,” Charlotte answered for me when it was clear that I wasn’t going to respond.
“Oh, excellent. I’m designing Katherine’s wedding dress.” Elizabeth snapped her fingers at her assistant. I hadn’t noticed the short man standing behind her. He placed a card in her hand, and she passed the embossed cardstock to me. “Here’s my card. Get in touch with my assistant, and we’ll put something together for the wedding.”
“Thank you,” I stammered.
Then, Elizabeth breezed out as easily as she’d walked in.
The man at Charlotte’s feet interrupted my shock by saying, “You’re good to go.”
“Thanks,” Charlotte said, stepping off her pedestal.
“I…” I blinked rapidly. “What just happened?”
“Elizabeth has excellent taste,” Charlotte said.
“You’re in great hands,” Etta agreed.
“But…I’m not anybody. I’m not a socialite or a celebrity.”
Charlotte and Etta exchanged a glance.
“You’re dating our brother. That makes you somebody,” Charlotte said.
Etta nodded. “This is our life. You’ll get used to it.”
That might have been a bit of what I was afraid of. I couldn’t even believe I was wearing one original designer piece, but to have the designer specifically ask to dress me? I had no idea what that even meant for my life. Fancy house parties, shopping at Bergdorf, club openings…maybe I was falling into the Upper East Side a little easier than I’d thought. Blurring a line that I’d believed to be so solid.
Penn’s words echoed through my skull, reminding me that no one could straddle the line.
But I still felt like me. I wasn’t any different. Right?
Natalie
24
One of the stage managers started calling out for everyone to get to their places, and suddenly, the backstage went from disaster to utter chaos. Everyone started frantically running around as they got set for the show.