What was this, a morning talk show or a gossip column? “We don’t have any plans to gettogether.”
The producer gave the signal to wrap thingsup.
Bob put on his professional mask. “Thank you for joining us …” He listed information about the movie and the red lights above the cameras wentdark.
Bob stood and offered her a hand to help her out of the chair. She accepted his help and smoothed her dress over her hips. A small group crowded around, thanking her for coming and congratulating her on the movie. Many of them had seen it with their kids over theweekend.
“Did you hear about the break-in?” asked a small man with big glasses. He wore a black zip-up hoodie a size too big for his thinframe.
It took Maia a moment to realize he was talking to her. “I’m sorry,what?”
He pushed the glasses up his oily nose. “I thought that since you’re friends with London, you’d hear about the break-in.”
Maia’s blood thickened and cooled in her veins like gelatin. Had London been hurt? How had she not heard about this? “Ihaven’t…”
“We covered it lastweek.”
She grabbed his forearm. “You havevideo?”
He nodded, leaning away from her like she was a crazy person screaming about the end of days on the corner of Cuckoo and Dangerous. She felt crazy dangerous. London was big and strong—she’d never felt so safe as she did when she was with him. No one could hurthim.
“Show me.” She released his arm, which he rubbed. “Please.” She followed him to his desk, where he did a quick search in the database and brought up the thirty-secondclip.
Kristi and April joined Maia. “What are wewatching?”
“Shhh!” Maia leaned over the guy’s shoulder, getting a whiff of cheesy potato chips in theprocess.
The reporter, a cute brunette in a red jacket, stood in front of a nursery. Above the door, the sign readThe Flower Pot. She held a microphone to her chin and said, “I’m here in front of The Flower Pot with Owner Karen. Can you tell us whathappened?”
The camera zoomed out and there was London’s mom. Maia covered her mouth with her hand as tears pricked her eyes. Karen! Maia soaked her in. The woman had welcomed Maia into her home and treated her like a daughter. It was Karen who took Maia dress shopping for the ChristmasBall…
Maia fidgeted with her purse.The single thin strap of something that resembled leather had worn until the original red showed gray. It was her best purse, her only purse—a castoff of her mother’s. She brought it along because she wanted Karen to think she was grown-up and not frightened of stepping into a departmentstore.
Karen walked through the dress department with her back straight and her eyes alert. She was so sophisticated without a hair out of place. The soft highlights that framed her face gave her a touch of youth, though she didn’t need it. She hummed and nodded and scowled as she flipped through the stunninggowns.
Maia was a half-step behind her, doing her best to keep her hands fromshaking.
“What about this one?” Karen stepped back but held on to the plastic hanger to keep the dress facingout.
Maia’s eyes grew wide. “It’s white.” She gulped. The bodice dripped with sparkles over white fabric. Even in the fake store lighting that turned Maia’s olive skin a complementary shade of puce green, the bodice shimmered with possibilities. The skirt was made of yards and yards of puffy fabric, gathered here and there to createvolume.
“It is the Winter Ball. White is highlyappropriate.”
She reached out and brushed her fingers over the wide neckline. “I—” Her heart dropped into the bottom of her purse, where it clinked pathetically against the few coins collected there. She had some money she’d saved, but doubted a dress like this was in her price range. “Maybe something not soflashy.”
Karen’s forehead puckered. “Will you at least try iton?”
Eager to please London’s mother, she agreed. It took seven minutes to choreograph herself into the dress. One minute to take off her jeans and fitted tee. Two to psych herself into putting the dress on. One minute to figure out that the zipper was on the side of the dress instead of up the back. Two to wriggle herself through the tunnel of lace and tulle headfirst, and arrange what limited assets she had in the right place. And one long minute to stare at herself in the mirror inshock.
She didn’t look like little Maia Esposito, daughter of the town floozy. She looked important, special. She hugged herself and the dress in the process, wanting more than anything for London to see her wear it. When he held her hand, she could believe he saw her like this every day. He treated her like she was already all the things she hoped she couldbe.
“Maia? Can Isee?”
Maia closed her eyes and gathered her courage as she gathered the skirt—moving elegantly would take practice, but she was up for the challenge. She hadn’t dared look at the price tag for fear that this dream moment would pop like an overinflatedballoon.
She pulled open the door to the dressing room and stepped out, the aged carpet rough on her barefeet.
Karen’s eyes filled with tears. “You are a vision.” She swirled her hand, indicating Maia shouldspin.
