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Why did anyone consider this fun?
Finally, she squeezed her way into the kitchen. A very skinny, short woman held court in front of a bright red, ten burner gas stove as if she had a coveted purpose in this drama. She leaned on a stack of coats on the kitchen counter.
A. Stack. Of. Coats.
There had to be ten, maybe more.
Violet hurried forward and grabbed a coat, intending to rummage through the stack, looking for blue bunnies.
“Are you participating?” The self-important woman wore goth-like make-up and had a widow’s peak, making her look vampirish. She arm-barred Vi away from the coats. She had skinny arms, but they were strong skinny arms.
“Participating? I’m looking for a coat that—”
“The coats are right here.” The vampirish woman handed Violet a jacket. It had a blue llama painted on the back. “You have to wear the coat and your dance moves have to pass muster with Xuri if you want to get on the yacht.”
“I’m sorry? What yacht?”
“For the after-after party.” Vampira rolled her eyes.
“Hey, you found it?” Simon reached for the jacket Violet held. “Wait. Why are there so many?”
Kelcie appeared at his elbow. “Oh. My. Gosh. Are they free? Can I have one?”
“You have to dance for it, peasants,” Vampira said with another eye roll. “No one is supposed to be here who doesn’t know the rules. You can’t get to the next party without Xuri’s blessing. And you can’t get to the next party if Xuri doesn’t approve of your dancing and let you on the yacht.”
“How do we get on the boat exactly?” Simon asked.
“How else?” Vampira said sharply. “By dancing down the runway in a coat. Do you want a coat or not?”
Violet grabbed two more coats for Grandma Dotty and Coop. Simon and Kelcie each grabbed one. Despite there not being blue bunnies on the back, they each dug into the interior pockets. No ring, no twenty dollar bill, no cell phone.
“Layla! It’s time!” someone called from the living room.
“Don’t disappoint me, peasants,” Layla/Vampira said gravely before strutting like a model out the door.
They followed Vampira—Violet wasn’t ready to think of her as Layla yet—out of the kitchen and joined the stream of party goers heading toward the private boat dock. The cameraman had moved to a nearby rise in the garden and was aiming his lens at the crowd.
Vi ducked her head.
Ahead of her, Coop—he was no longer Chuck—was standing with Grandma Dotty. “Did you realize this is a dance-off?”
“And I don’t have my coat.” Grandma Dotty’s gaze lit on the coats in Violet’s arms. “Is that mine?”
“It’s a loaner until we find yours.” Violet handed her grandmother and Coop their jackets before putting hers on. “We’re not letting that thief get away with this.” Not that Vi planned on participating in the dance off. She was just going to blend in.
“Look! Our thief is on the boat deck.” Coop pointed out the man dancing on the upper deck of the luxury yacht. He wore a white coat, but his back faced the sea. “How did he get on first? The competition hasn’t started.”
“Isn’t it obvious by his hollow cheeks and black outfit?” Simon scoffed. “He’s one of Xuri’s models.”
And he was onboard. Gah! Vi’s spirits plummeted. Now it was imperative that she get on that yacht. The likelihood of her doing soandremaining anonymous was very slim. In fact, the chances of her being identified was much more likely than her passing Xuri’s dance test.
A pair of very young, very pretty, very talented dancers wearing the requisite white denim jackets pranced down the dock toward the yacht where Xuri stood at the foot of the gang plank.
The fashion designer had changed out of her be-ribboned dress and into a black cat suit. Gone were the big platform shoes. She wore bright red pumps.
The dancers reached Xuri, circling her as they executed what to Vi seemed like professional moves.
But Xuri shook her head.
