Nelly insists on dropping me off at the gala, but when he takes me by the hand and floats me out the back of his warehouse, I have to do a double-take. His idea of wheels is just about as cool as it gets. If my brother could see me getting into this, never mind the dress, he’d be all over the engine. ‘Is that a Stingray?’
Nelly turns towards me, his face bemused. ‘Hmm.’
‘Wow,’ I say. ‘I am seriously impressed.’
‘Right back at you. You have an eye for high-end motors?’
I stare him squarely in the eyes. ‘Any kind of motor.’ I’ve had the best kind of brotherly obsessive training.
‘Make and model?’ His eyes narrow.
‘Chevrolet Corvette.’ I pause, running my eyes over the body, the slashed air vents on the front panel, the sparkling multi-spoked wheel caps. ‘1964?’
He nods in heartfelt praise. ‘So not just a pretty face.’
I laugh. ‘Full of surprises,’ I say as I swing the layers of cloud-like tulle that I’m wrapped in. ‘But a bigger surprise might be how is all of this going to get into that.’ The inside of the car is tiny. All streamlined.
‘Don’t you worry,’ Nelly says breezily as he walks around to the passenger door and swings it open. ‘I’ve been doing this a long time. Come, my lady, let me wrap you perfectly for presentation.’
It’s a five-mile jaunt across town. I have to confess, I’m not as into cars as my brother but Nelly’s Corvette is seriously cool, and luckily the traffic is kind to us – no sitting in jams. We’re there in the blink of an eye.
‘Thank you so much for everything, Nelly.’ I gently touch the beautiful skirt, the one that’s graduated and graded like an ocean, whilst holding me tightly and comfortably as a cocoon.
‘My absolute delight, darling,’ Nelly says, checking the rear-view mirror as he pulls into the line of expensive black limos that are heading under the wide awning of the Beaumont drive-through canopy. ‘Just make sure, if anyone asks, you tell them you got it from Nelly’s. Actually.’ He wraps his hands against the steering wheel and shoots me a cheeky smile. ‘Sod them asking, you tell them anyway.’
I place my hand over his and give it a squeeze. ‘I will, Nelly, seriously, I will.’
He pulls on the handbrake. ‘Well, go, girl, go.’
I lean over and plant a kiss on his forehead and his face crinkles in mock delight.
‘Not my princess, princess. Go find that Prince Chumpworth.’ He rubs my shoulder firmly. ‘And remember, you don’t have to be back by twelve.’
I wish that were true. My brother will be on my case if I haven’t got a good excuse. Is this a good excuse? I glance out of the window, feeling like the world is at my feet.
‘You better be quick,’ Nelly says, staring out at the forecourt. ‘That valet’s itching to park me.’
I unbuckle my seat belt, grab my bag, glance out at the forecourt, and my jaw drops to the floor. Oh no. It’s my brother’s mate, Tim.
Tim’s rushing towards us, wearing a peaked cap and a tight red jacket. Luckily, he’s more interested in the car than he is in me. He’s straight round to the driver’s door.
‘Fine. I’m fine,’ Nelly says, holding up one decisive halt-style hand.
Tim’s face caves in disappointment.
‘Not stopping,’ Nelly adds with a brief smile.
Neither am I. I open the car door and slip out. If Tim’s here, my brother will be too. He might be able to cope with me working on the reception desk at Delagado Towers, but he wasn’t keen about the upgrade to the seventeenth floor. He hates unpaid overtime, and he’s always had a bee in his bonnet about the music industry. It was the trap that my parents got caught up in – the promise of fame, the overworked nights. Life with an empty fridge, with only enough money for pick-me-ups that you can all too easily get hooked on. I can’t have Minty knowing what I’m up to.
‘Great car,’ I hear Tim say behind me as I pick up my skirts, angle my face towards the red carpet, and head for the large glass doors of the Beaumont.
‘Hey!’ I’ve walked smack bang into a growling tuxedoed man. I grab his jacket to steady myself.
‘Sorry,’ I say, cringing and glancing up from my diamond shoes.
‘Clara!’
It’s Marco. Marco Delagado is staring at me. Darkly handsome, wearing a well-tailored dinner jacket that fits so effortlessly it could easily be a second skin. His gaze travels the length of me in a way that makes me feel like a fairy princess wafted down from the heavens.
