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Chapter 38
Cupped in my palms, the water drained through my fingers in long, cool streams. I wanted so badly to splash it on my face, but I didn't want to ruin Mary's careful makeup job or get water on my dress. Reluctantly, I let the water go, then grabbed a napkin from the stack beside the sink and dampened it before pressing the cool cloth to my forehead. There. That was a little better.
Everything about this night felt like a mistake. Jared's unnerving presence, Janette's pressured hints, Miranda's surprise appearance... Ray was right; even Brandon's pending announcement just seemed wrong. The anxiety already lodged in my stomach was blooming into full-on frenzy, making me feel lightheaded. All eyes were on my beautiful man, and soon they would be on me too. I gasped into the mirror and focused on inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, exhaling. With both hands braced on the countertop, I stared at my reflection: the reflection of panic.
This wasn't me, this primped princess. I looked like an alien version of myself, preserved in a mask of diamonds and couture. I did look like Janette's twin. I was playing dress up in silk armor, but all the pretenses of wealth in the world couldn't protect me from the inevitable avalanche of press coverage and scrutiny that would, in all likelihood, expose every secret I had.
Green eyes or blue?
God, I was so stupid. I should have told him when I had the chance, when it was just the two of us. I took another deep breath, but it stuck in my throat. Everything made me feel like I was choking.
The door to the bathroom swung open, and Janette swept in like a queen. When she found me, it was clear by the look on her face that she hadn't come to use any of the stalls.
"Darling," she said frankly as she quickly crossed to where I stood. "You look like death. Do you have some concealer for those under-eye circles? Whatever is wrong?"
I maintained my grip on the counter.
"I'm just..." I started, finding it difficult to get any words out at all.
"Terrified?" Janette asked with a knowingly look. She reached up and patted a nonexistent hair back into place. "Well, of course you are, my love, and for good reason. In about thirty minutes, your life is going to change forever."
I clenched my teeth and inhaled again deeply through my nose, holding the counter even harder so I wouldn't fall over. "That's not really helping, Janette."
"Oh darling, please don't worry. It's nothing you can't handle. Especially once that man does what he's planning and finally pops the question, if he hasn't already. Things will get easier then."
I reared my head up, eyes wide. "What are you talking about?"
Janette leaned her slim hips against the counter so she could look at me in the face instead of through the mirror. She examined the tips of her French manicure as if we were discussing the weather.
“I hope you’re giving him a run for his money with the prenup," she continued. "He’s a catch, but in my experience, quickie weddings almost always end in divorce. Be smarter than that other woman. Get pregnant, make sure the contract compensates for it."
As an ice-cold chill spread through my entire body as I wondered what the hell had just gotten into my mother. Granted, Janette often thought it was appropriate to give me advice that assumed far more intimacy than we actually had. But this was eerily close to the truth.
I stared stonily at the gold-flecked granite of the counter. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Janette tapped a long finger on the side of her nose. "That's it, darling. Keep your cards close. But I've seen the way he looks at you. You'll be married by the end of the summer."
"What the hell are you doing right now?" I demanded, feeling increasingly uneasy as I stood up to face her. "What is this, some kind of demented pep talk?"
Janette shrugged, although she had the grace to look uneasy. "I'm just trying to help. I know how to play this game well, my love."
I might have believed her, except the kind look in her eyes turned to something colder.
"For instance," she continued as she drew a graceful finger up and down the edge of the sink, "I know that secrets in this world are capital. And since I've done you a little favor by protecting your secret, I'm hoping you'll do me one too."
"What are you talking about?" I asked shakily as my stomach dropped to my toes. "What secret?"
"You see, my love," Janette said, "we're a bit at the end of our ropes here, your stepfather and I."
I stared at my mother, suddenly finding her unrecognizable. Janette was a lot of things: a flake, a dilettante, a tease, a doll. But never this...Machiavellian. Who was this? She looked up, her wide green eyes, the same green eyes I had, suddenly as sharp as a knife.
"Goodness, this is awkward, isn't it?" Janette asked. "If you'd taken any of my calls, we wouldn't be here. We could have determined a path privately. But, as it happens, Maurice just can't wait any longer, and neither can I. I need my life back, Skylar."
"Your life back? What does that mean?" I asked, although I wasn't sure I really wanted to know.
Janette blinked. "Don't play stupid, darling. It really doesn't suit you."
"Janette, I don't know what you think I know about Brandon's business," I sputtered "but we don't really talk about the deals he's making. Mostly because it would be illegal."
