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It was a stack of clothes, neatly folded. The faintest smell of perfume drifted up to Maddy’s nose as she carefully sorted out the dresses. It was sweet and somehow familiar. She picked up and unfolded a cream-colored vintage dress with a lace hem. She sat back and looked at it in the warm light.
Her mother had style, that was for sure.
Maddy dragged an old, cracked vanity mirror around, then slipped out of her shorts and pulled off her tank top. She slid gingerly into the dress, then gently pulled up the zipper. The fabric hugged tight around her curves, wrapping her body as if from memory. It had been a long shot, but Maddy was absolutely right. She and her mother were the same size. She looked at herself in the mirror and felt all the hair on her arms stand up. It was the closest she had ever come to meeting her mother.
She blinked back tears and smoothed the fabric along her body. Then her eyes drifted back to the box and to the small pile of jewelry she had placed on the floor. She picked through the different pieces until she found an unadorned, gold-chain necklace. It was understated and elegant. She fastened it around her neck. Maddy took one last look at herself in the cracked mirror, then put her mother’s things back in their box and descended the wooden ladder.
She checked the time. It was 7:52. She went into the bathroom, where she threw on a little eye shadow, mascara, and lip gloss. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Her hair was going to have to be okay as it was as well. She was just running a brush over her teeth when the sound of the doorbell sent her heart hammering against her rib cage. Through the small bathroom window she could hear the purr of the Ferrari’s engine. Running back to her room, she slipped on the only pair of heels she owned and fished out a black clutch that Gwen had forgotten over the summer from under her bed. Then with a deep breath and a tight grip on the rail, she descended the stairs toward the Angel waiting politely for her at the front door.
When Jacks saw Maddy, he took a sharp breath and opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it, as if preferring to keep the thought to himself.
“Hi again,” he said at last.
Maddy looked at the nearly impossible sight of Jackson Godspeed standing on her porch. He wore a striking tuxedo jacket over a gray collared shirt, skinny jeans, and crisp, classic Vans. As usual, he looked like he had just stepped off a billboard. His eyes were darker than usual, more of a cobalt, and utterly intoxicating. Maddy collected her scrambled thoughts and tried her best to speak.
“Hey,” she managed, and fidgeted in her heels. “Do I look okay?”
Jacks’s expression was guarded again. “Maddy,” he said softly, “you are beautiful.” He stuck out his arm. Maddy took it and he led her down to the car.
They rumbled down the Halo Strip, drawing looks from people in the restaurants and boutiques and waiting in lines outside the clubs. Maddy felt awkward. She wondered if Jacks could tell how foreign all this was to her. Getting dressed up. Going out. And she wondered what his guarded expression on the porch had meant. Was it possible he had completely changed his mind about her when he woke up this morning? Last night it hadn’t mattered who was a famous Angel and who was a waitress from Kevin’s diner. But maybe things were different now, after he’d had time to think about it in the daylight. Maybe he regretted the whole thing.
“I’m really glad you decided to come with me tonight,” Jacks sa
id finally.
“Yeah,” Maddy said, playing with the hem of her dress. “I don’t normally do stuff like this.”
“You know,” Jacks said, grinning over at her, “they got a picture of us last night.”
Maddy flushed. “I know, my friend Gwen showed me.”
“Well, don’t worry about it, my publicist killed it.” Jacks smiled. “You’ll meet her tonight.”
Maddy’s heart hammered. “Speaking of, what is . . . tonight?”
“Oh, it’s just an event.”
An event? Maddy felt her palms break out in sweat.
“And what, exactly, is an event?” she asked cautiously.
“Well, it’s like a party, but it’s also part of my Commissioning.”
Party. Even worse. That word carried with it the near inevitability of another word, dancing. And Commissioning? Maddy wondered what would happen if she opened the car door and just flung herself into the street. Would Jacks keep driving and let her get away? Unlikely.
Questions pounded inside her head like hammers. Who would be there? Others like her? And why had Jacks invited her in the first place?
“That’s okay with you, right?” Jacks asked, snapping Maddy out of her self-induced panic.
“What?”
“Is it okay with you? That we’re going to an event?”
Maddy bit her tongue. “Mm-hmm,” she lied, and looked out the window. Outside, the first stars of the evening winked in the purple sky. Jacks downshifted and turned, and they cruised down La Cienega Boulevard. Maddy could smell the organic, innovative delicacies of the restaurants and cafés at which she could never afford to eat. Somewhere below them, she could see searchlights knifing through the balmy night air. If she was going to do this, she’d have to do better than her usual Angel-illiterate self. She needed information.
“And . . . this is for your Commissioning?” she asked sheepishly.
“Uh-huh.” Jacks nodded. “Me and the other nominees.”
