Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Which is a very sweet thing to say, even if I don’t believe it. “That’s really kind of you, thank you.”
Hellie leads the way into a dress shop in the heart of the Sunrise Casino and Hotel. The place is enormous, almost impossible to understand, and the promenade is like a long list of high-end shops that look as though nobody ever bothers to go inside. The girls chat happily about their husbands and their children, and occasionally ask me questions about home, but mostly they act as though I’m a long time part of their group and don’t push me into talking. I don’t have to say much, and I prefer listening to them. They have a good rapport, and some part of me wants to join their group, become one of them—which will never happen.
We end up inside a store at the far end of the building filled with gowns of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The sort of clothes I’d never wear, and could never afford, even as the daughter of the clan chief. Papa would’ve rolled his eyes at the thought of spending a small fortune on clothes.
“Welcome, ladies,” the woman at the front says as if she were expecting us. “I’m Olivia, and I can’t wait to find the perfect dress for you. Which one of you is Fallon?”
I raise my hand, sheepish. “That’d be me.”
“Perfect.” Olivia sweeps me away from the group and the women follow, laughing as they go. Casey sits down on a couch right away, sighing as she rubs her knee, and a small army of assistants hands out glasses of champagne, chocolate-dipped fruit, and small sandwiches.
I’m given none of that. Instead, I’m placed up on a pedestal and swarmed by an army of measuring tapes, pins, cloth in about a thousand different shades of white, and lace in a myriad of patterns. I’m prodded, poked, paraded about like a prized horse, and finally deposited back in a chair, feeling like I ran a marathon. And I haven’t even seen a dress yet.
“I know it’s a lot,” Isabel says, leaning in toward me. “And I know this whole thing isn’t really your idea, but hey, at least you’ll get a dress you like, right?”
“Sure,” I say and clear my throat. “Can I be honest?”
“Please.” Isabel’s smile doesn’t waver.
“I’m not really a dress girl.”
She hesitates—then bursts out laughing.
“None of us are,” Hellie says, downing her champagne. “I’m just here for the drinks.”
“I wish I had your figure,” Casey says, giving me the once-over. “I mean, I’m not really a girly-girl either, but damn, I think you can pull off just about anything in here. I’d be way more into dressing up if I looked like you.”
I find myself blushing. “Uhm, thanks. You’re all pretty too.”
“Nah, that’s just the good looks money buys.” Isabel cackles, finishes her drink, and gestures for another. It’s refilled in seconds. “Seriously, don’t worry about cost right now, okay? The Costa family’s got the tab.”
“We can afford it,” Casey says, beaming. “Especially for the last wife.”
I clear my throat, feeling awkward. Should I tell them about the deal Jayson made with me? One year then splitsville. I won’t ever be a part of these women, not really.
I put on a fake smile. “I really appreciate it.”
“Sure you do.” Isabel pats my hand. Her smile slips a touch, and in that moment, I like her very much. It’s like she’s got some idea of what I’m going through and she genuinely feels sorry for me. I want to be her friend so badly it hurts.
Except it’ll never happen.
“Okay, darling,” Olivia says, clapping her hands together. Two enormous racks of dresses are rolled out and she gestures expansively. “Time to shop.”
Isabel cheers, Casey rolls her eyes, and Hellie looks like she wants to melt into a puddle, but I put on my big-girl face, get to my feet, and play along. I’m shown dress after dress, and even like a few enough to give them a nod. Those are set aside for the final phase.
After what feels like a thousand dresses—but is probably more like a few dozen—I’m placed back on the couch, given another drink, and left alone long enough to shove a sandwich in my mouth.
“Can I admit something?” Casey asks. “I don’t really know much about Ireland. What’s Dublin like?”
“It’s an older and smaller New York,” I say, which is my standard answer. “Actually, I went to Barnard for college, so I’m pretty used to people wondering about where I’m from.”
Casey laughs, looking delighted. “You went to college here? That’s great, isn’t it? There’s less of a culture shock.”
I make an uncertain little gesture. “Sure, something like that.”
“Don’t worry, we all had to acclimate to the Costa brothers.” Hellie leans toward me, giving me a little conspiratorial grin. “You wouldn’t believe my story.”