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We’re finishing up when my mother walks in, dressed in a winter white Chanel skirt suit. Guess she has a function to attend today. “Sabrina, the stylist is here. You need to come and try on your dress now.”
I look to my dad, hoping he’ll tell my mother I’m busy. But he just shrugs his shoulders and pulls my chair out for me.
Dad is classically handsome. He’s about five-foot-ten, with salt and pepper hair and a lean build. If the man isn’t in a suit, his version of relaxing is a shawl-collared sweater and a pair of chinos. It’s practically the polar opposite of my version of relaxing, but to each their own. He never truly looks comfortable to me, which is a bit sad. My father has always talked about running for higher office, and I dread the day he puts that spotlight on our family.
I walk up the curved staircase, knowing exactly where I’ll find my mother. She’s in the spare bedroom that’s been turned into her dressing area. Multiple gowns hang from a rolling rack. Looking through them, I can’t find mine. “Mom, where is my dress?” I’d picked out a pretty, strapless green column gown with a black velvet band along the neckline and down the back. It was gorgeous, and it was Murphy’s favorite color.
My mother looks away. “Sabrina, dear, that dress just wouldn’t do. It was far too tight and far too revealing. Look at what Carolina has brought for you. She’s tailored it to your measurements. Go.” She shoos me with her hands. “Try it on.”
Glancing over to Carolina, who at least has the good graces to look embarrassed, I grab the garment bag and head for the en suite bathroom. I hate to admit it, but the gown is gorgeous. It’s a deep emerald green, fitted with a thin band, making my waist appear ridiculously tiny before flowing out into the perfect ball gown. The tiny off the shoulder cap sleeves mean I won’t have to worry about pulling up the otherwise strapless top. It dips lower than I expected in the front. Guess Carolina didn’t take into consideration how much my girls stand up on their own. Add a strapless bustier and this might actually be indecent.
I’m going to love the look on Murphy’s face.
Once I slip it on and wiggle to get it zipped up, I take in my appearance in the mirror. The dress is gorgeous. It’s not the dress I picked out, it’s better.
I walk back out and stand on the raised platform in the middle of the room. My mother claps her hands together dramatically. “Oh, Sabrina. You look stunning. Spin around. Let me see.” She looks to Carolina. “You don’t think it’s a little low in the front and the back?”
“No, Mrs. Cabot. I think it is perfect. Add that pair of chandelier earrings you showed me and no necklace and Ms. Cabot will be the belle of the ball.”
My mother tsks. “Are you sure no necklace? Not even a simple diamond?”
“No necklace. The earrings are a statement. Her hair will be done, and your daughter is stunning. Do not add a necklace.” Then Carolina turns around and winks at me. Maybe she’s on my side after all. “Stay right there, Sabrina. I picked up the most gorgeous pair of silver Jimmy Choo, d’Orsay ankle strap glitter heels for you.” She brings them to me and leans in. “And they’re only three inches. Don’t want you taller than that handsome man you told me about.” It would take about eight inches to make me taller than Murphy, but I don’t tell her that.
Of course, my mother doesn’t miss a thing. She might be excited, but too much Botox makes it impossible to tell. “And what handsome man is she referring to? Are you bringing someone to the fundraiser?”
“Yes, Mother. I am. I let Dad’s secretary know last week.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she asks, “Does this young man have a name?”
I buckle the second shoe and straighten my back. “Aiden Murphy is accompanying me Saturday.”
“Katherine Murphy’s son?”
“Yes. I’m sure you’ve met Mrs. Murphy before.” I spin around and look at myself in the mirror. Carolina did well.
My mom meets my eyes in the reflection. “Of course, I have. She’s attending the function as well and bringing the coach of the Philadelphia Kings with her.” She lifts her chin, somehow managing to express that she’s won this round.
Well, damn.
* * *
Group Text
Chloe:A little birdy told us that we missed an exciting breakfast this morning.
Sabrina:Oh yeah! It was crazy.
Nattie:Was she hot? The whole time we watched the Kings game, Murphy kept calling her a train wreck.
Annabelle:Bash didn’t want to talk about it. The only time he smiled was when Tommy talked to him. Anybody else notice that?
Nattie:I’m gonna get it out of Brady tonight.
Sabrina:She was hot, but she was bat-shit crazy.
Chloe:Soooo...How was last night?
Annabelle:My night was boring. I soaked my feet and watched Jurassic World with Tommy for the 100th time.
