Sofia and I lived in a partially renovated building, a former cigar factory in Montrose. We both loved the eccentric neighborhood, which was filled with art galleries, upmarket boutiques, and quirky restaurants. I had bought the warehouse at a steal, owing to its ramshackle condition. So far we had converted the ground floor into a spacious studio with exposed brick walls and endless rows of multipaned factory windows. The main-floor plan included an open kitchen with granite countertops, a central seating area anchored by an electric-blue sectional sofa, and a design section with an idea wall and tables piled with books, swatches, trims, and samples. My bedroom was on the second floor, and Sofia’s was on the third floor.
“Good morning,” my sister said brightly. I flinched at her cheery tone.
“God. Please. Turn it down a notch.”
“The light?” she asked, reaching for the dimmer.
“No, the perkiness.”
Looking concerned, Sofia poured a cup of coffee and gave it to me. “You didn’t sleep well?”
“No.” I stirred sweetener and creamer into the coffee. “I finally texted Joe back last night.”
“And?”
“I was blunt. I said I wasn’t interested in seeing him again. He didn’t reply.” I shrugged and sighed. “I’m relieved. I should have done it a few days ago. Thank God I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“You’re sure it was the right decision?”
“Without a doubt. Maybe I would have gotten another night of great sex, but I’m not interested in being some rich guy’s cheap entertainment.”
“Someday you’ll run into him,” Sofia said. “Another wedding, or some other event —”
“Yes, but by then it won’t matter. He’ll have moved on. And we’ll both behave like grown-ups.”
“Your paraverbals seem worried,” Sofia said. “What can I do, mija?”
I didn’t know what would have become of my life without Sofia in it. Smiling, I leaned sideways so our heads touched briefly. “If I ever get arrested,” I said, “you will be my one phone call. Bail me out – that’s what you can do.”
“If you ever get arrested,” Sofia said, “I’ll already be in jail as your accomplice.”
That morning, Val came to the studio at her usual time of nine o’clock. It was a mark of her innate tact that although she obviously noticed my unkempt condition, she said nothing, only went to take care of e-mails and answering machine messages. However, Steven showed no such reticence when he walked in a few minutes later.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, giving me an appalled glance as I sat with Sofia on the blue sectional.
“Nothing,” I said curtly.
“Then why are you wearing a Boy Scout tent?”
Before I could reply, Sofia retorted, “Don’t you dare criticize how Avery looks!”
Steven inquired acidly, “So you like what she’s wearing?”
“Of course not,” Sofia said. “But if I didn’t say anything about it, you shouldn’t either.”
“Thanks, Sofia,” I said dryly. I sent Steven a warning glance. “I had a rough night. Today is not a good day to push me.”
“Avery,” Val called urgently from her desk in the design area, “we’ve gotten an e-mail from Hollis Warner’s social secretary. You’ve been invited to a private party at the Warner mansion on Saturday. A black tie fund-raiser. It’s their big annual contemporary art auction and dinner.”
Sofia let out a little yelp of excitement.
The atmosphere in the studio seemed instantly diluted – my lungs had to work harder to obtain the necessary amount of oxygen. I strove to sound calm. “Did she mention a plus-one? Because I’d like for Sofia to come with me.”
“There was no mention of that,” Val said. “If you’d like me to call and ask —”
“No, don’t,” Sofia said instantly. “Let’s not be pushy. Hollis may have a reason for inviting just you.”
“She probably does,” Steven said. “But that’s irrelevant.”
“Why?” Sofia, Val, and I all asked at the same time.
“Because the Warners are out of our league. If the wedding is scaled bigger than Amspacher-Kendrick, which Hollis told you it would be, we haven’t developed our vendors and suppliers list enough to handle it. The big event planners in Houston and Dallas have the best professionals and venues all sewn up with exclusive contracts. We’re still relatively new on the scene.”
“Working for Hollis would put us on the fast track,” I pointed out.
“It’s a bargain with the devil. She’ll expect you to cut our percentage to the bone in return for the prestige of having her as a client. This won’t help the business, Avery. It’s more than we can handle right now. We need to keep growing by focusing on smaller projects.”
“I’m not going to let anyone take advantage of us,” I said. “But I’m definitely going to the party. No matter what happens, it’s an opportunity to make some great contacts.”
He looked sardonic. “What are you planning to wear to this black-tie event?”
“My formal gown, of course.”
“The black one you wore to the hospital fund-raiser? The one with the big shoulder pouf? No, you’re not going to the Warner mansion in that.” Steven stood and began to hunt for his keys and wallet.