“To my birthday party, of course!”
My heart panged sadly in my chest. “You know I’m not on the invitation list.”
The topic of this girl’s eighteenth birthday had been discussed repeatedly. The kind of money the signora was shelling out for the spectacle was ludicrous. Normal people spent half as much on a wedding, and still the Grimaldis worried it wasn’t extravagant enough to compete with their social circle.
“That’s the best part!” Arabella continued. “I changed the theme to Venetian Carnival. Everyone will be in masks.”
I sat up straight. Sleep zapped from my veins. The possibility began to crackle through me.
“I want you there,” the girl insisted. “I don’t have any real friends beside you and Nico. Even if we can’t talk or interact, it would still be awesome if you came.”
The dress. The excitement in her voice. The enchanting idea.
A pro-con list rapidly developed in my brain, but before I could talk myself out of it, I nodded eagerly. “Okay, yeah! I’ll come.”
Arabella squealed again and pounced on me. I returned her hug with a fervent one of my own.
“That’s the best present you can give me,” she said in my hair.
I let out a light laugh. “Oh, I’m still going to get you something.”
“You don’t have to!” she rushed to say, pulling back.
Pressing my lips in a tight pucker, I gave her a mischievous look. “Already was planning to.”
Arabella blushed. “Well, I’ll love it whatever it is.”
“You will.” I pulled the gossamer-fine material through my fingers. “Where did you find a half-made dress?”
Her cheeks darkened even more. “I made it.”
The signora was a stupid cunt. This was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen, and just a few minutes ago, she’d been shitting on Arabella’s craft skills.
“You made it for me?” I breathed. “Thank you, darlin, it’s so very pretty.”
“Try it on!” Arabella urged, pushing the material at me.
I began unbuttoning my uniform. “That door had better be locked.”
“It is.” Arabella went to double check while I ripped the rigid material off my body and replaced it with the smooth, cool satin of the lining material. The sheer layers fell over the top like a dream.
Hurrying to the full-length mirror, I twisted my hips. Arabella came over with pins and a marking pen. I struggled to stay still, loving the way I shimmered. When she tugged the bodice over my back, adjusting the sleeves, I broke her concentration with a full spin.
“You look like a princess,” she gushed.
I grinned. “That must make you my fairy godmother.”
“Ew, that makes me sound old.”
I plopped a kiss on her cheek. “Fairy godsister then.”
We fell into a fit of giggles.
“Let me see the hem a moment. Stand still,” the princess ordered.
I flicked the material of the bodice. “What are those supplements you make into tinctures for?”
Arabella stilled. A few pins fell out of her mouth.
