Leaf at one point jumps onto the tower of makeup, and Chanel hisses at him like she’s a cat herself. Which somehow works, and Leaf scurries off but stays close enough to watch.
With my makeup finished, Chanel buttons me into the dress, careful not to mess with my hair. After getting out every knot and doing some deep conditioning, my ringlets could make Archimedes blush. Amber slicked back the front sections to lay flat and placed two large gold hair clips perfectly parallel on each side.
I go to my jewelry box in search of more gold. I’ve got plenty of necklaces and rings, but in my heart, I’ve already decided what to wear. I take out the heart shaped door knocker earrings that were my Mom’s and slip on a few gold bangles left by my Grandmother.
I step out of my bedroom holding my gold leather heels. I bought them as a statement piece, but they hardly stick out when I’m already dripping in opulence. Kas and Rosier are standing around, both of them dressed in their tuxes, both with purple pocket squares, though Rosier’s is a deep royal purple while Kaz’ is a vibrant orchid shade. I notice they both have lavender boutonnieres pinned to their suits as well.
Kas spots me first and grins. “I think we might have to play bodyguard because everyone is going to want a piece of you tonight.”
Rosier looks at me, and his eyelashes flutter. Half his hair is pulled back in a bun, still allowing his curls to brush his shoulders while showing off his sharp jaw. He says nothing at first, and I wonder if he’s holding back an insult. Instead…
“You look beautiful. As you always do.”
An insult would have been easier to swallow. “Thank you.” I reach up and touch the lavender sprig on his lapel. “Who decided on this?”
“Rosier, of all people, insisted.” Kas rocks back on his heels. “He wanted lilacs, but they didn’t have any, especially on such short notice. So, lavender it is.”
Rosier and I catch each other’s gaze but say nothing. I could ask why, but I already know the answer. He wants to see them for himself, the lilac flowers in our book.
Silence has been hanging between us for a bit too long, and unlike our usual staring contests, this time we have witnesses.
In an attempt to break the awkwardness, I sit down to slip on my shoes. “Do you think they’ll be checking bags at the door?”
Kas snorts. “What, are you bringing a knife?”
“A wand would be a good idea.”
I close the clasp on my shoe and go and grab the wand I used to summon Rosier. I hold it in my hand, thinking about how I could use it. Offensive magic is uncommon, and I certainly don’t know any. I set the wand back down and go and grab some chalk instead, along with a few spare crystals.
Chanel makes a face. “You’re going to keep a bunch of chalk in your purse? Ruin the lining?”
“We all have to make sacrifices.” The tools roll off my hand into my open envelope style bag with a convenient strap on the wrist. Rosier then threads his arm through mine. “Do I look nice?”
“I already told you, you always look beautiful.”
“I know, but I like hearing you say it,” I smirk.
Chanel glares at him. “If you smudge her lipstick, I’m going to be livid.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
MINNIE
I peerout the tinted window of the car, the museum a few spots ahead of us. The white stone building has banners announcing the gala bookending the tall arched windows, which cast yellow light outside. People dot the steps leading to the museum, all in suits or fine dresses. The car inches its way up the street as part of the procession. I feel bougie, and we’re not even inside yet.
When we do pull up, an attendant standing at the curb opens the passenger door. Rosier steps out first, offering me his hand as I step out of the car. Kas follows and hands the attendant our tickets. As we walk up the steps, I stand between them, holding onto Rosier’s arm while Kas accompanies us. I can’t help but look at the other guests, searching for my Father. I don’t know what he looks like, but I’ll know him when I see him. We have the same eyes, after all.
The museum foyer is packed with people all mingling and drinking, waiters darting between them. I’m more focused on the building itself. When I was a kid, I would stand and stare up at the skyline, wondering why every roof wasn’t made of glass. I wanted so badly to go at night, to lie on the marble floor and stare up at the stars under the cover of glass, surrounded by the industrial style murals. Even now, I’m tempted to lay on the cool floor and admire the night sky in the comfort of the museum.
But I keep walking, almost dragging Rosier with me. He leans down to whisper in my ear, “Where are you taking me?”
“I want to enjoy the first floor of exhibits before we have to be cordial.”
“I thought you’d be excited. This is like all of your books.”
“It is…” I agree as we pass the Native American section of the museum. “But you know the heroine usually isn’t excited. She’s worried about her debts or about running into an old lover. I guess I’m worried, too.”
Rosier slides his arm down mine, taking my hand in his and giving it a squeeze. I glance down at our interlocked hands, then back at him.
