Page 106 of Morally Black Betrothal

The shopgirls perked up immediately. The one behind the counter went to retrieve the exact red bag I’d been admiring earlier.

“Oh, I would like to see that too?—”

“We’re busy,” said the one next to me before she abandoned me in favor of the new customer, leaving me to see myself out of the store.

Anger roiled in my stomach as I exited. For once, I wished my sister were here with me. Selena would probably curse out the salesgirls with all sorts of inappropriate names or key the store windows with obscenities, but she would never take this sort of abuse lying down. I actually admired that gusto. Sometimes I wished for a bit more of it.

But what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t force the women to help me, nor did I particularly want to give them acommission at this point anyway. And right now, I was running out of time for the only thing I had to accomplish today: finding a dress that would impress Brendan’s family. Or, at very least, convince them we belonged together.

Unfortunately, going back outside didn’t exactly help. The veil had been pulled back, and now I saw myself in comparison to every other woman strolling down Newbury. Up and down the block, there seemed to be different versions of the woman who had just flounced into Ducos. Some were men, dressed in expensive suits or custom shirts; some were older women instead of young, with equally perfectly coiffed hair and manicures just so. Everyone breezed by as if I were no different than one of the light posts.

I’d never been the type to stand out. But for the first time in my life, I felt truly invisible.

When I entered the next three stores on Ruth’s list, the reactions were nearly the same as at Ducos. Where I wasn’t explicitly turned out, I was outright ignored. Nowhere was I able to try on a single piece of clothing. Not a cocktail dress. Not even a pair of shoes.

“Screw this,” I muttered when I’d been rejected from the fifth and final store. “Vintage it is.”

The Black family could deal with looking at me in secondhand clothing while I informed them of their employees’ deplorable customer service.

The truth was, I’d had a vision in my head when I’d left this morning. A fantasy of how things would go. I’d arrive to meet Brendan’s family looking like a million bucks, like the exact kind of woman they thought the eldest son, their heir, should be with.

I’d be groomed and beautiful and just as perfect as any of those women I’d seen walking down the street beside me today. Brendan would look at me with sudden light in those ivy-dark eyes of his.

He would be more than glad he’d asked me to be there this evening.

He’d be proud.

But with every shop I’d visited today, another seed of doubt had been planted that I couldn’t ignore. Already they were blooming, taking over my thoughts like a sea of clover or the dandelions that covered the back pastures.

By the time I got off in Cambridge, where my favorite vintage stores graced Central Square, the fears were fully realized and had words to go with them:

What if it didn’t matter? What if deep down, they realized the truth: that I wasn’t good enough for their world? That I wasn’t good enough for their son?

What if this whole venture was doomed from the start?

25

P-A-R-D-A

Brendan

“When the fuck is dinner going to be? I’m about to chew my goddamn arm off.”

By the booming timbre of my father’s voice, you’d have never known he’d just had a heart attack. And if he didn’t mellow out soon, he’d probably have another one.

Unfortunately, mellow wasn’t in the old man’s vocabulary.

I checked my watch as I walked into the house, then shrugged out of my coat before handing it to Jenkins, the butler.

“Thank you,” I told him, ignoring the mild surprise on the older man’s face at my gratitude.

Christ, I wasn’t that bad, was I?

Simone had texted me about an hour ago to tell me she was running late from a salon in Cambridge. I didn’t ask her what the hell she was doing on that side of the city or why she couldn’t have found somewhere to do her hair closer to my apartment downtown. Ruth had told me she was planning to shop today for something to wear to this dinner, and if I was being honest, I was kind of curious what she’d come up with.

I liked Simone in a bartender’s black T-shirt. I enjoyed her in a simple blue dress. I honestly wasn’t sure how I’d feel once I saw her looking and feeling her absolute best.

For that reason alone, as soon as I entered the mansion’s marbled foyer, I found myself wishing I’d waited for her to join me.