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This was all meant for me? The dress, the makeup. I was going to be on display, but for whom, and to what end?
“You remember Michelle? From S.E.C.R.E.T. headquarters? She’s your stylist.” I did remember her round angelic face and easy giggle. Stylist? What were they getting me styled for?
“Cassie, I’m so excited for you, but we have to hurry. Undergarments first. Off with them.”
Before I had a chance to react, Michelle shoved me behind a bamboo dressing screen, and tossed a gossamer silk bra, thong and pale stay-up stockings over the top.
“I bet you thought birds and butterflies would be helping you,” she said, laughing. I had no idea what she meant.
Once I had the garments on, Michelle gave me a bathrobe, then seated me in front of the mirror. She gathered my long hair into a low chignon at the nape of my neck. Amani painted my cheeks and lips light pink, then gave the rest of my face a natural glow with a big brush. After adding a hint of mascara, we were done.
“Time for the dress,” Michelle said, carefully plucking the pink confection off the hanger and ushering me behind the screen again.
All the while, Matilda kept coming and going from the room.
“How much longer?” she asked Amani.
How much longer for what? I lifted the heavy dress over my shoulders and felt it slide easily down my body and fall perfectly around my hips. I stepped out to get help with the zipper, and when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I was rendered speechless. The dress was beautiful, a pale pink like the lining of a seashell. It cinched me so snugly at the waist, I realized I actually had one. The sheen was the barest sateen, and the dress was strapless and cut sweetheart-style across my chest, showing off my shoulders and arms. The skirt flared out like a ballerina’s, with a soft crinoline underneath to keep its shape.
“You look … beautiful,” said Matilda.
“But how is this goin
g to play out? People know me. My boss’s girlfriend is still here. The whole city’s here!”
“Trust us, Cassie. It’ll all be fine,” Matilda said, glancing at her watch.
Admittedly, some of the other fantasies had taken me by surprise, especially Jesse, but this was different. This was the first time I was around people I knew, in my real life. It was exciting and dangerous, but it also filled me with anxiety. Michelle gently removed a tiara, a delicate twist of silver and sparkle, from a small velvet bag. She nested it across the top of my head, framing my tousled chignon.
Matilda and I looked at each other in the mirror.
“Stunning, my dear. But don’t forget these,” she said, handing me the sparkly white pumps.
I slid my feet into them and took a few practice steps in my heels, feeling utterly ridiculous and overjoyed at the same time. Yes, I could dance in these; in fact, I suspected I would be doing just that after the auction, which by my estimation should be over by now. I was glad to have missed that part.
“It’s time!” Matilda announced, taking me by the arm and tugging me across the foyer towards the ballroom.
“What? Where are we going? The dance hasn’t started,” I protested.
But Matilda wasn’t listening. We were moving so quickly, I had to place a hand on my tiara to keep it from falling off. We reached the ballroom and I entered behind Matilda, making sure she was screening me from view. As I peeked around her shoulder, I saw a line of beautiful women, each taking a seat onstage. Among them was an attractive local news anchor, a model who looked like a young Naomi Campbell, an actress from the same TV show as one of the men who had been auctioned, a pretty blond cellist from the New Orleans symphony, two beautiful Italian sisters who owned one of the top spas in town, a few “daughters of” … and Tracina, who was now more than a little tipsy in her slightly off-kilter tutu.
“There’s one more empty stool,” Kay announced into the microphone, cupping her hand over her eyebrows to scan the back of the room. “But maybe she left.”
Please make me invisible, I prayed. I can’t cross the room in this dress, to be auctioned off in that crowd. I’d make a fool out of myself.
“She hasn’t left!” Matilda yelled, pushing me forward.
“There she is!” Kay crooned. “It’s Miss Cassie Robichaud, one of our lovely volunteers. Now, doesn’t she look enchanting!”
Matilda placed her hands on my shrunken shoulders. She must have been able to tell I had died a little inside. She whispered in my ear, “Remember, Cassie, this is Step Six: Confidence. You have it in you already. Find it. Now.”
With one last nudge, I was launched into the crowd, and I made my way slowly, eyes heavy on me. I curved around the tables, my skirt brushing chair legs and calves. As I crossed the empty dance floor and headed to the stage, the dress elicited some oohs and aahs. But the healthy wolf whistle from the balcony actually made me laugh a little. Had it really been meant for me? When I passed Pierre’s table, I tried to avoid eye contact with him. I climbed the stairs and passed Tracina, perched on her stool like an agitated bird.
“You seem more and more interesting the longer I know you,” she hissed as I took my seat.
“Let’s begin, shall we?” Kay started the bidding with the news anchor, who, after a fierce back and forth, went for $7,500 to the general manager of one of the waterfront casinos. The model, who’d made aggressive attempts to get Pierre’s attention, was crestfallen when Mark “Sharky” Allen, the Gem and Jewel King with the cheesy late-night commercials, battled it out to the tune of $16,000 to win a dance with her. The sisters went as a package deal and two of the debutantes attracted five-figure bids. Tracina kept primping and preening while she eyed Pierre at his table close to the stage. But it was Carruthers Johnstone, the exceptionally tall, broad-shouldered district attorney from Orleans Parish, who opened and closed bidding on Tracina for $15,000, a hell of a sum that caused the room to erupt in a round of applause.
I was never going to garner that kind of money. Tracina had those long legs and a vivacious personality. She was funny and hip. She could work a room. She could stand up for herself. Even dressed as a pixie she was sexy as all get out. I felt even more humiliated as the event came close to an unceremonious end.
