Nice Day For A White Wedding

So a formal affair then …

I don’t want to get it wrong and be totally overdressed though. Eventually, I settle on a faithful friend. A black cocktail dress that isn’t over the top, but isn’t casual by any stretch of the imagination, either. I slip on a pair of black heels and look myself over in the full-length mirror inside of the wardrobe door. I turn around, twist my neck, and look at myself from the back. Hopefully, I’ve got it right. No doubt, if dinner is usually a super casual affair, Alex will tell me before we go downstairs and I can quickly change into something else.

I still have ten minutes before I have to meet Alex in the hallway and I decide to call Rosa. I pull my phone out and scroll through my contacts list until I find her. She answers quickly. She doesn’t bother to say hello.

“You’re still alive then?” she says instead.

“Just about,” I laugh.

“Spill the beans? What’s the aunt like?”

I vomit out everything. About the palace-like mansion, about the aunt who seems to like me so far, and about the cousins who Rosa instantly dubs the wicked stepsisters.

“The fact they’re Alex’s cousins and not his step sisters doesn’t worry you in the least?” I ask with a laugh.

“Accuracy is more important than facts,” she says airily.

“Actually, I’ve taken to thinking of them as the ice sisters.”

“Take a photo of them when they’re not looking and send it to me,” she demands bossily.

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear the knock on my door. “Shit, I have to go,” I mutter. “I’ll keep you posted. Can you tell Star and Raven the news so far?”

“Sure. Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” Rosa says with an evil laugh.

“That doesn’t rule much out,” I say as I end the call.

I know Star will text once Rosa speaks to her and the last thing I need is my text alert going off during dinner. Leaving my phone on my bed I go to open the door.

Cindy

Alex stands before me, in another wildly expensive suit. It’s almost unfair how ridiculously good he looks in a dark suit. I feel my heart skip a beat just looking at him. In different circumstances I’d be quite happy to skip dinner and drag him into my lair. My stomach seems to disagree though because it chooses that moment to growl loudly.

Alex laughs. “Well that answers my question about whether or not you’re ready for dinner,” he drawls. His eyes linger on my chest for a moment and then they come back up to my face. “You look beautiful, Cindy.”

“Why, thank you, Sir.” I smile up at him coyly. Might as well get into character. “You don’t scrub up bad yourself.”

“Playing your best card already,” Alex asks with a chuckle.

I arch an eyebrow. “Now why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. How much further do you want to go?”

If he thinks I’m backing off, he has another think coming. “Well, you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

He smiles, a secret smile. “Yes, I’ll just have to.” Then he offers me his arm. “Shall we?”

I nod and take his arm and let him lead me down the grand staircase. We go along a hallway before Alex stops at a set of double doors where a man in uniform is waiting. Respectfully, he opens the door and steps back so we can step through. I find myself in a tall yellow reception room that one would find in any fine stately home. Beyond it, through another set of open doors I can see an extremely formal, deep-red dining room. Looks like the other guests are already there and they are dressed in evening dresses. I send up a silent thank you to God that I got the dress code right.

“Cindy, Alex,” Babushka smiles, standing as the door closes silently behind us.

“No need to get up, Babushka,” Alex says.

“Nonsense,” Babushka retorts briskly coming towards us. “Anyone would think I was old or something.”

This gets a laugh from the other guests, even Petra. Babushka is wearing a white lace top and a black velvet skirt. Around her throat is the most beautiful necklace made of pearls and a blue stone. She kisses me lightly on both cheeks.

“I love your necklace. It is so beautiful,” I say impulsively.

Her white fingers finger the pearls as she studies me. “These belonged to my great grandmother and one day they will belong to you.”

I feel Alex stiffen next to me. Forget Alex, the dismay in the air is actually palpable. It is clear no one in that room other than Babushka desires such an outcome. I am saved from answering by the arrival of a manservant with a tray bearing two drinks in crystal glasses. A whisky for Alex and tall orange liquid which I assume must be Gin and orange for me. Alex must have ordered it beforehand. I pick up my drink, the glass is cold under my fingertips.