AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Last year’s leftovers?
I eyed my plain, easy-to-care-for hair. “Looks fine to me,” I muttered.
“How about some bangs?”
I shrugged. She was the expert, after all. “Fine—but only the bangs.”
Lainey whipped out a towel and draped it around my shoulders. She turned the vanity stool so I faced her and slashed at the front quarter of my hair. Ragged black tufts rained down around me.
“There.” She removed the towel and spun me back to face the mirror. “Chic but edgy.”
“Not bad,” I admitted.
“It’s perfect. You’re all eyes and cheekbones now. Trés badass, like an assassin working undercover as a model. It’s that mix of Russian and French.”
I eyed my reflection. Ididlook kind of badass, which was preferable to my usual Ice-Princess look. Cool, untouchable, virginal—with an emphasis on thevirginal. Which was just sad for a woman about to turn twenty-seven.
“You’re right. Thank you.”
“Told you.” Lainey’s bubblegum-pink lips formed a smug smile.
The razor blade moved toward my hair again. I shot out my hand, stopping her. “That’s enough.”
A sigh. “Zoe.”
“No. We’re done here.” I dug my fingers into her wrist. The razor clattered to the marble floor.
Lainey hesitated. We both knew she answered to my mother, not me. It was Victorine who’d decided my image needed an upgrade, just like she’d picked out my dress for the ball.
“You may leave now,” I said in my best vampire-princess voice.
“No problem.” Her look was sympathetic. She picked up the razor and set it on the vanity. “But Prima Tremblay wants to see you in the dress.”
It was my turn to sigh. For the first couple of days, having Lainey around giving me a makeover had been fun. But it had quickly gotten old.
I knew as well as Lainey that Victorine had demanded to see the entire outfit—a trial run for the masquerade ball Thursday, when everything had to be perfect or she’d be in a cold rage for days afterward.
“Let’s get this over with,” I told Lainey, who retrieved the dress from the walk-in closet. I slipped out of my tank top and yoga pants and she dropped the silky white thing over my head.
“There.Très chic.” The stylist was from Korea by way of Los Angeles, but in the two weeks she’d come to Montreal, she’d started littering her conversation with French phrases.
I examined my outfit in the full-length, antique silver mirror to the right of the vanity. The dress was beautiful, and so was my new hairdo. I hardly recognized myself. Which was the problem.
“Well?” Lainey asked.
I ran a hand down the short skirt and managed a small smile. I had very few friends, and besides, I liked Lainey. It wasn’t her fault my mother had control issues.
“It’s great. You’re a genius.”
She pursed her lips. “Something simple for jewelry. A thin gold necklace with a few strands. Maybe a gold armband?”
“I’ll let you decide.”
“Awesome.” She gave an excited clap as if the jewelry was for her. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
“I’m sure I will. And pick up something for yourself, too—as a thank you.”
“Seriously?”
