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"I'm embarrassed," I said as I walked carefully in the slinky gold heels she'd lent me. I was wearing a floor-length navy-blue gown with a bustier top. It was barely holding my boobs in, and I knew I looked like I was either going to prom or celebrating my sweet sixteen. Rosalie had curled my hair, and it was flowing down my back. And I had so much makeup on, I felt like I had bought out the entire Sephora store. I grabbed my gold clutch and glared at Rosalie.
"I'm really going to kill you for this."
"Not when you meet Mr. Right, you won't."
"I better meet Mr. Right," I said, though in the back of my mind, I was thinking maybe I'd already met him.
"Stand here. I'm going to announce you like we're at some sort of cotillion ball or something," she said.
"Girl, you are really making this way too..." I paused as she opened the door and stepped into the living room.
"Oliver, Foster, I need your attention. I would like to present to you Lady Alice Pascal. Dun da da da," she bellowed into the room, and I could just imagine what Foster and Oliver must be thinking as I made my way out. Holding my head up high, I tried to walk slowly as the heels were a good three inches high, and I was not used to wearing such shoes. I entered the living room, and both Oliver and Foster looked surprised to see me.
"Wow," Oliver said, nodding and clapping. "You look amazing, Alice."
"Thank you." I looked over at Foster, who had a weird expression on his face as he looked me up and down.
"Where are you going?" he said. "Is this some black tie event that I didn't know about?" I bit down on my lower lip without responding.
"Don't be jealous, Foster," Rosalie said to him. "Just because Alice looks like a million bucks doesn't mean that you need to feel bad because you look like a bum."
"Thanks, sis. You always know how to make me feel better about myself."
Rosalie giggled. "Come on, Alice. Let's go and meet those entrepreneurs and tech guys and hedge fund managers. Let's get you a real rich one."
"So that's what you're looking for?" Foster said with a raised eyebrow. "A rich man?"
"No, that's not even on my list, actually," I retorted quickly, annoyed he hadn’t said I looked beautiful or anything.
"Your list?" He stepped forward.
"Yeah. Rosalie had me create a list and..."
"And she's going to get at least eighty percent of what she wants," Rosalie said. "Alice, you look so beautiful. I can't wait till I see you in the bridesmaid dress."
"I can't wait to see you as a bride," Oliver said as he looked her up and down. "And you're just wearing that?" he said hopefully.
"Yes, dear. Don't worry. I'm not going to flirt or try to meet any guys. I'm just going to support my girl here. All eyes will be on her."
"Yeah, they will," Foster said, laughing.
"What's so funny?" I said, staring at him.
"I mean, you kind of look like you should be going to the Presidential inauguration or the Oscars or something."
I bit down on my lower lip. "So you think I'm overdressed?"
"I think overdressed is an understatement. Didn't you say you're going to Dickey's Bar?" He looked over at Rosalie.
"Yeah, and?"
"Dickey's Bar is a dive pub. I mean, hey, you are in New York, so I guess anything goes."
"You're such a hater, Foster," Rosalie said and shook her head. "Don't listen to my brother, Alice. You look stunning. Doesn't she, Oliver?"
"You look absolutely beautiful. Alice. I think every man's head will turn when he sees you."
"You can say that again," Foster said, laughing. "Every man, every woman, every dog in the street. Shit, even the rats are going to be like, 'Where's she going? Maybe we should follow her because maybe she's going to an event with really good food,'" he said in a squeaky voice, pretending to be a rat.
