Page 36 of Forbidden Heart

The palette even has two different sized brushes that fit neatly in slots at the top. It is as though this box was intended as a starter kit for someone who has always wanted to wear makeup but has never owned any before. Someone like me.

“That’s a travel kit for stage makeup,” the fairy godmother explains, and my face falls. “But how about a makeover?”

She leads me to a barstool facing a mirror, and soon I’m wearing everything from foundation to lipstick to eyeshadow. She makes me part my lips and look up as she applies mascara, and she keeps up a steady stream of conversation, explaining what each product does and how it should be applied.

When she’s done, I feel like I could sing any song. Like I could command the stage and the audience would be unable to look away.

I almost burst into song. Almost.

Before I know what’s happening, Charles has picked out a makeup case similar to the travel kit, except much smaller. This one’s empty, and he has the fairy godmother fill it up with everything I used, plus a few extras, all of which he charges on his card.

The fairy godmother slips everything into a crisp and prettily decorated paper bag with pink handles, which JJ offers to carry for me.

I’m still in a bit of a trance as we walk out of the store. The whole time we walk around the mall, I keep peeking at myself in display windows and mirrors, trying to figure out if the princess staring back is really me.

Charles drops off his watch, and we order fries. I eat them one at a time, careful not to ruin my lipstick and gloss, and Charles grabs a salad. We talk about music and LUV Academy and our dreams for the future. Well, the guys do, while I pretend to be undecided.

The skylight overhead reveals that the sun is setting by the time we pick up Charles’s watch and decide to head back. As we approach the exit closest to where Charles parked, I slow my pace. Because right there, in the display windows, is the dress of my dreams.

It screams Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White, and the little mermaid. Four of my favorite princesses all mixed into one single, gorgeous dress.

Yellow and blue silk weave together in beautiful layers that narrow at the hips and then puff out again like a tail. The fabric glitters and glows in the display window, like it’s truly magical, and the pale blue gossamer lace trailing diagonally calls to me.

“Do you like it?” Charles asks.

“It’s perfect,” I whisper before I can think better of it.

Charles nods. “Then it’s yours.”

Chapter 15

The next morning, I put on some of my new plum lip gloss and grab Mom’s necklace for good luck. The broken, fractured pieces are an artifact of my old life, but as much as I want to forget the nightmare I lived through, I can’t let them go. They’re like my life: a gift from my mother, destroyed by my father, and the only thing I managed to escape with. And I can’t imagine doing what I’m about to do without it.

I grab the stack of resumes JJ helped me print last night and slip out of the apartment. Not because I might wake the guys—they left for class before I was even up—but because I’m on the lookout for Marcus the RA. Luckily, he’s nowhere to be found. Probably because he’s in class, like everyone else.

I get out of the building without a hitch and head across campus. Charles did a bunch of interview practice with me last night. He also made it clear I didn’t need a job, but when I explained that this was what I wanted—that I needed to stand on my own two feet and have something to do while the guys are in class—he was still willing to help me get one.

I should be nervous, but with the guys’ support I feel confident. Excited. Ready!

The campus looks more beautiful than ever in the morning light. The sun-dappled pavement seems to shimmer as the canopy of leaves above cast their shifting shadows. I feel like I am walking on air as I make my way to the cafeteria.

Humming a song about getting a job—a song I can’t possibly use for the competition, but one that still makes me happy—I scan the restaurant signs. I feel so full of potential that I might as well have cartoon birds helping me along.

I start at the burger joint, since that seems like the easiest job to get.

“Hi, what can I get you?” the woman behind the counter asks.

“Hello. Can I please speak to the manager?” I repeat the words Charles helped me rehearse.

The woman glances down at the stack of papers in my hand. “Applying for a job?”

I nod.

She holds out a hand, and I hand her a copy of my resume.

“I’ll make sure Larry gets this,” she says.

I wait.