Privilege (Privilege 1)

Her cell phone beeped and she fished it from her purse. There was a picture message from Hudson waiting for her. With a smile, Ariana opened it and laughed. It was an extreme close-up of Hudson with an exaggerated sexy expression, one eyebrow raised and a saucy smirk on his lips. The caption read, When can I see you?

Ariana quickly texted back one word: Soon. Then she turned off her phone. She had important business to attend to.

As she slipped into a silky, light blue Nicole Miller dress, Ariana let out a sigh of relief. She turned to look at her reflection and smiled. There she was. There was the person she needed to be. There was really nothing better than retail therapy.

Except, of course, that she couldn't buy anything.

Ariana took the dress off and tried a black Michael Kors top paired with a sweet white eyelet skirt. Then she slipped into a rose-colored Elie Tahari dress. How could anyone look at these things and call them boring? Ariana felt sophisticated, beautiful, and refined. She should be the one making over Briana Leigh, not the other way around.

She would be so much more attractive in these things, Ariana thought, turning to check herself out from behind. She now understood how frustrated Kaitlynn was whenever she thought of Briana Leigh having all that money, even though Ariana now knew that Kaitlynn had been mistaken about the inheritance. Still, all Briana Leigh did was misspend the cash she did have on awful clothes, alcohol, and obviously183

pointless tennis lessons. If Ariana could even get her hands on Briana Leigh's allowance, the money would be put to much better use.

Half an hour later Ariana was through with her private fashion show. She sat down on the bench in the dressing room, back in the Briana Leigh-style clothes, and sighed, feeling morose as she looked at all the lovely things on their hangers. Life was so unfair. Even without that inheritance, Briana Leigh had everything. The Black AmEx card, the car, the cash. And here Ariana was, slumped in a dressing room, unable to buy herself even one little dress.

A tear slipped down Ariana's cheek. She had thought that this trip would make her feel better, but it was all so futile. There would be no Milan, no Australia, no future for her or for Kaitlynn. It was over. Her plan, her meticulously laid plan, had failed. She might as well have been back in that tiny roo

m at the Brenda T, staring at the wall. Yes, she had gotten out, but without money she was just as trapped as ever.

A sob welled up in the back of her throat, and, try as she might to choke it back, Ariana couldn't stop it from coming. She pulled her feet up onto the bench and buried her face between her knees, muffling her tears.

She would never have a future. Dr. Meloni had been right. She was never going to be free....

A few minutes later Ariana came up for air. She glimpsed her pathetic reflection in the mirror--mascara dripping down her face, eyes red and puffy--and suddenly she felt a flash of hot anger.

No. She was not a victim. She was in charge of her own life. There

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was a plan B out there somewhere. There was always a plan B. All she had to do was figure it out. And if she wanted a Calvin Klein shirtdress, dammit, she was going to have one.

Ariana's adrenaline took over. She dried her tears, grabbed the gray shirtdress, and strode out of the dressing room, slapping it down on the counter. Without even a hint of guilt, she pulled out her wallet and handed over two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills. As the saleslady wrapped the dress in pretty tissue paper and placed the gold sticker with the store's emblem on the bag, Ariana felt a rush of delight. She savored the moment. One little moment in which she had taken charge of her own life.

"Briana Leigh! Love the new haircut!"

A hand fell on Ariana's shoulder and she froze. Had someone just called her Briana Leigh?

When she turned around, the girl's face colored with embarrassment. She had bleached blond hair and a pair of red-rimmed sunglasses that did nothing for her ruddy skin tone. Plus she was wearing last season's Ugg boots.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry! I thought you were someone else!"

Ariana shuddered. Without a word, she sidestepped the girl and strode out of the store.

I'd rather be dead than be Briana Leigh, Ariana thought as she used the key remote to unlock the Cadillac.

But a nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her that, in a way, she was already dead.

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* * *

Tears rolled down Ariana's face like big fat drops of failure. She couldn't stop crying. No matter how hard she tried, the sobs just came and came and came, racking her body as she lay atop the silken comforter on her temporary bed. Once she had started, there was no going back. Now she felt like she might cry forever.

One Calvin Klein dress had not helped the situation. Her lack of self-control had, in the end, only made her feel worse. She had to do something. Had to fix the situation. There was only one option left. That was, if she could actually bring herself to pull it off.

Ariana heard Briana Leigh's footsteps outside the room. She sat up and tried to wipe her face dry, but it was too late. Briana Leigh shoved open the door and came bounding in without so much as a knock. She was wearing the same outfit she'd left in that morning--a denim mini and a barely there tank. She froze the second she saw Ariana's face.

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