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Bile rose in the back of Dani’s throat, and she tried to ignore the decades-old voice that lingered, questioning whether she was good enough.
“Don’t let them rattle you. Remember, you’re doing this for Jameson, and he adores you. Trust in that and you will be fine.”
Oh God!
Louisa couldn’t be more wrong. This wasn’t just for Jameson. Dani’s company and her financial future were on the line. Parcellum might be willing to overlook one bad turn in the news cycle, but if that narrative gained momentum and continued to grow...
Dani needed to nip it in the bud and toe the line so she could turn the press coverage positive again.
She exhaled. “I will take their advice and dress appropriately. Thank you, Louisa. I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you.”
“You’re welcome,” Louisa said, looking relieved that the conversation was over. “Please ring me if you need anything else.”
After showing Louisa out, Dani went into the adjacent sitting room she’d co-opted as an office and stared at the rack of outfits her stylist had sent her. Her glam squad—Rhonda and one of her alternate hairstylists, because Miss K had to head back home to deal with a sick relative—was due to arrive shortly. Dani wanted to gain inspiration for a look they could use as a jumping-off point.
Apparently, in keeping with the changing times, women were now allowed to wear longer dresses or trousers to the regatta, although the blazer was still a must. However, with everything on the line, Dani would stick with tradition. She’d do it her way, playing around with colors and textures, but she’d keep it conventional.
Willow, one of her favorite stylists, had selected several sheath dresses in bold, vibrant colors with contrasting jackets. She was trying to decide between a tangerine sheath and a cranberry-colored flared dress when the front door’s buzzer sounded.
“Add this to the report you give Jay,” she yelled out to Townsend.
She’d been expecting her glam squad, so she was surprised when she opened the door to see a white woman, dressed in a plain light blue shirt and tan pants, standing on the threshold.
“Can I help you?”
The woman shifted the large tote bag she was carrying. “The palace sent me to help you get ready.”
Damn! They were really keen to micromanage what she wore.
She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. “I’m sorry they wasted your time but I’m good.”
“They thought you could use some help with your... hair,” the woman said into the space before Dani had fully closed the door.
Dani halted mid-action and her hand flew up to touch the softness of her natural curls and coils. She narrowed her eyes.
What the fuck did she say?
She swung the door wide. The woman had assumed it was an invitation to enter, but when she read the look on Dani’s face, she smartly reconsidered that action.
The woman swallowed. “I... they told me... to...”
“I said, I will not require your services,” Dani gritted out, sure the baring of her teeth was giving more grimace and less smile but granting herself grace because it was the best she could do under the circumstances, “but feel free to bill them for your time.”
She barely refrained from slamming the door.
The nerve! The fucking gall! It was bad enough they wanted input on her clothes and her behavior, but herhair?!?!
Dani set her jaw. The palace had a problem with what she’d been wearing before?
They’d seen nothing yet.
***
The scene at the Royal Regatta was like something out of a novel about the Roaring Twenties. On both sides of the river, grandstands were erected and arranged for spectators to watch the races. Several enclosures were situated along the bank, including the mostprominent one, the Royal Enclosure. Inside, there was riverside seating in the form of teal-colored canvas-backed deck chairs bearing the queen’s royal crest, a smaller grandstand, several tented areas for formal dining, a bar, and scattered tables of varying heights for people to visit with one another.
Men walked around dressed in pastel-hued and/or striped blazers with pants and hats that wouldn’t look out of place in a barbershop quartet. The women were dressed in colors that spanned the spectrum of the rainbow. Dani was happy to see other women wearing pants, but she could tell from the looks she’d been garnering since she’d arrived that no one managed to look quite like she did.
She was dressed in a blush pink, wide-legged, three-piece pantsuit that was meant to be worn with a shirt underneath. Dani chose to go sans blouse, so the vest covered her breasts but left her chest bone and the valley between said breasts bare.
