Wait.
Why has Jakob brought a selection of dresses that would only be appropriate for an event as swanky as The Carter Foundation Gala to my hotel room? And why is he laying them out on my bed?
“Umm, Jakob?” I venture timidly as he bends down and starts fishing shoe boxes out of another bag. “This might be a stupid question, but—”
“I’m sure it will be,” he sniffs, opening one of the boxes to reveal a pair of jewel-encrusted sandals that we both have to take a second to just stare at in awe.
“I’m just wondering,” I continue, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety that’s twisting my stomach. “What all of these clothes have to do with me? Like, why are they here? With you? Why areyouhere?”
Jakob turns and stares at me, with anI’ve heard it all nowexpression on his face.
“Because you’re going to the ball, Cinderella,” he says at last. “And I guess that makes me your fairy Godmother, here to dress you for it.”
* * *
“Here, drink this. Just make sure you don’t spill any of it on the clothes.”
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, nervously nibbling on my fingernails, while Jakob empties miniature bottles of vodka into a glass for me.
The good news is that the Gala isn’t actually happeningtonight, like I’d assumed it was when Jakob broke the news of my expected attendance to me. No, it’s not until tomorrow, which at least means I have a bit of time to get used to the idea of it, as well as to pick out something to wear.
The bad news is that I definitely have to go to it. Which I suppose could also begoodnews, really, depending on how you look at it?
What girlwouldn’twant to go to one of the biggest red carpet events of the year, after all?
Picture me sheepishly raising my hand right now. My hand with its bitten nails, which almost made Jakob pass out when he caught sight of them.
“I don’t really have a good track record with events like this,” I tell him now, taking a huge slug of the vodka, then erupting into a coughing fit. “The last ball I went to ended with mountain rescue being called, and my mother almost getting arrested. And don’t even get me started on Galas”
“You were at a Gala on a mountain?” Jakob asks, confused. “With your mother?”
“No, notona mountain. And it wasn’t the kind of Gala you’re thinking of, either…” I start to explain, before stopping and taking another drink instead. “It’s a long story,” I say, looking up at him apologetically. “Well,twolong stories, really. Probably best left for another time.”
“Let’s move you over to the couch,” Jakob says, glancing nervously at the dresses, which are still laid out on the bed, waiting to be tried on. “And let’s maybe get you some water instead of this.”
He takes my glass and goes over to the minibar, while I pull my phone from my pocket and swipe to open it.
“I just would’ve thought Jett might have told me about this himself,” I say, glaring at the phone as if it’s somehow at fault. “He could easily have sent me a message, or… Oh.”
My 24 voice messages have now crept up to 57, and I have six unanswered calls. My heart leaps at the thought that Jett has been trying to contact me, after all, and then sinks again as I recognize Mum’s number.
I guess the beach photos have definitely reached Heather Bay, then.
“Problem? Other than the eyebrows?”
Jakob is standing in front of me, holding out a glass of water, which I reluctantly accept.
“No. Well, yes, I suppose,” I say, starting to chew my thumbnail and stopping when he shoots me a murderous look.
“It’s just my mum,” I tell him, sighing. “I haven’t spoken to her in a year, but now that she thinks I’m seeing Jett, she suddenly wants to be back in contact. Funny, that.”
“Is she pissed about it, do you think?”
Jakob takes a seat beside me, his drama antennae clearly having been triggered by this.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Likely to be the opposite, in fact. She’ll be absolutely delighted. She probably wants to come out here and meet him. Get in on the action.”
“And you don’t want to see her?”
