“Of course. You’re my sister. It only seems right that you’d be a part of my wedding.”
Emma had never felt so optimistic. Sophie was making such an effort to include her. Emma was starting to feel like a real part of the Eden clan, less like a person who was unwittingly plopped down in the middle of it. She would get what she’d missed out on during her twenty-seven years in the world—a close relationship with siblings, the camaraderie of an extended family. She felt sure of it now.
From the bench in the corner, Emma’s phone buzzed. “Oh, shoot. I have a call.” Back to reality.
“I’ll help you out of the dress. Then I need to get Lizzie to order me some lunch.”
Emma changed and raced upstairs. One of Eden’s personal shoppers steamed the gown and delivered it to her office, along with a pair of strappy silver Blahniks Sophie had picked out. The dress was the only thing Emma looked at as she finished up her call. The fabric, the style, the price tag—it all seemed unreal, as if it wasn’t meant for her.
Mindy appeared in Emma’s office doorway around three. “The hair and makeup people are here, but we have a problem. Sophie’s sick.”
“Is she okay?”
Mindy shook her head. “A stomach bug or something she ate. I sent her home. I don’t see any way she can come tonight. Looks like it’s just you and me.”
Great. The sister who hates me. Emma felt queasy herself. Her security blanket was gone. “Oh. Okay.”
“We need to leave right at five or we’ll get stuck in traffic forever. I’ll send in the hair and makeup people.”
Emma was now not only nervous, she was dreading tonight. Before she had time to think about it, a man and a woman invaded her office with brushes, hair clips, a curling iron, and every shade of lipstick and type of hair product you could imagine. They wheeled her across her office in her chair and parked her in front of a full-length mirror they’d brought.
The male stylist took her hair out of the ponytail and tutted. “I’m Anthony. This is going to take a while.”
The makeup artist at least offered a smile. “I’m Charity. It’s going to take me some time, too.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, I’m Emma.”
“We know,” they answered in unison.
Charity dug through a case of makeup, picking up tubes and examining the colors. “I’m going to cover your freckles, if that’s okay.” She pointed to Emma’s cheeks.
“I like them.”
Charity shook her head. “I don’t think they’ll photograph well. There will be paparazzi tonight. You want to look good.”
Emma hadn’t taken the time to think about the fate of her freckles, and definitely not photographers. “Do whatever you need to do.”
The duo went to work, tugging and dabbing, prodding and pulling, spraying and spritzing. Emma kept her eyes closed whenever possible. They were doing too many things that she would never do to herself.
“Voilà,” Anthony said a good forty-five minutes later. He was like Michelangelo presenting a masterpiece.
Emma opened her eyes and blinked several times. If it wasn’t for the same clothes she’d worn to work, she never would have known it was her. Her hair was tugged back in a dramatic updo, she had long false lashes and smoky eyes. She looked fantastic, practically ready for the cover of a magazine. So this was what it was like to be glamorous.
“Wow,” was all she could say.
“Emma, you are a stunning woman if you put some work into it,” Charity said.
Perhaps that was her problem. She hadn’t been trying hard enough. “Thank you so much. Both of you.”
“Call us anytime.”
Not wanting Mindy to be angry with her, Emma closed and locked her office door and dressed. She called in Lizzie to help with the zipper.
“You are so lucky,” Lizzie said, looking at Emma with eyes full of wistful envy. It was a bizarre feeling. Emma and Lizzie were more alike than she and Sophie or Mindy.
“Maybe we can figure out a way for you to come with us next year.”
“Really?”
Emma nodded. “In fact, I promise to do whatever I can to make it happen, okay?”
Lizzie grinned from ear to ear. “Wow. Something to look forward to.”
Mindy walked in wearing a supershort magenta dress with a plunging neckline and sky-high Christian Louboutins with the signature red bottoms. She surveyed Emma’s new look. “They did wonders. You hardly look like yourself at all.”
Gee, thanks. “You look great, too.”
Lizzie rushed out of the room when the reception phone started to ring.
“Hey, so, I need a favor from you tonight,” Mindy said, digging through one of her prized Hermès clutches. “I have a friend meeting me there, so I won’t be able to spend much time with you. But I don’t want you to tell Sophie.”
“Does this friend happen to be the guy that Sophie doesn’t like?”
Mindy pursed her lips. “His name is Sam, okay? He’s in town for a few days and I really want to see him. And yes, Sophie hates him. But that’s her problem, not mine. It has something to do with her fiancé, Jake.”
Emma was tempted to ask what was in it for her to keep the secret but decided against it. She needed to forge a connection with Mindy, somehow. “Okay. My lips are zipped.”
“Awesome. I owe you one.”
Well, that was something. “No problem.”
Mindy’s phone beeped with a text. “My driver’s here.”
Downstairs, they climbed into the back of a black stretch SUV. As they whizzed through the city, Emma tried to ignore her nerves. She tried to ignore that little voice inside her head that said that every last person at this event was going to know she didn’t belong. There was only so much refinement she could fake. What if someone asked her where she went to school and she forgot the canned story Sophie and Mindy had cooked up about private school in France? What if someone asked about her family and she accidentally blurted the truth, that until three months ago, she was the deep dark family secret? Even worse, what if no one asked her anything at all?
As the driver pulled into the line of limousines and black town cars, Emma could see the paparazzi’s camera flashes popping like crazy. The red carpet. Emma’s stomach wobbled. She wasn’t practiced in the art of posing for cameras. She didn’t know how to hold her head at the right angle or slant her leg to make herself look skinny, or even how to properly plant her hand on her hip. This could be a disaster.
“Anything I need to know about this first part?” she asked Mindy.
Her half sister eyed herself in a compact mirror, them clamped it shut. “Follow my lead. You’ll be fine.”
Mindy climbed out of the car first and Emma followed. A woman with a clipboard was checking names, but she took one glance at Mindy and knew exactly who she was. “Mindy Eden. Nice to see you. Who do you have with you tonight?” the woman asked, her tone syrupy.
“My sister Emma.”
A deep crease formed between the woman’s eyes. “I thought your sister was Sophie.”
“Long story,” was all Mindy said, patting the woman on the shoulder and waving Emma ahead.
Emma stepped onto the red carpet, her heart thundering in her