All of that was gone, and now Violet wanted the clothes off my back too.
I glanced at the bags taking up the rest of the couch. Fourteen of them boasting skirts, dresses, jewelry, and yet another makeup kit, but not one pair of jeans in the bunch.
I’m completely fuzzy on why she bothered to make me come. She’s not even letting me try them on. Violet’s just throwing clothes at me and gushing about how cute I’ll look in them.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was getting some kind of twisted glee at remaking me in her ideal image.
“Yes, darling, of course,” said Violet. “I approved the arrangements myself. The flowers will be brought to the club no later than noon and the staff will handle decorations. The event will go off without a hitch. I don’t want you to worry about a thing.”
The store clerk inched up. “What do you think?” he whispered. He held up the dress, a blue and white monstrosity that made me cringe.
“No, my friend. Let’s put aside any notion of sequins right now. Do you have black pants?” I asked. “Or even better, jeans?”
“Um. We might have something in the back.”
He turned to leave.
“Oh, hold on— Umberto? Umberto, where are you going? That dress is gorgeous. We’ll take it.”
Umberto perked up. “Wonderful.” He scurried off and I had a feeling it wasn’t to look for those jeans.
“Aunt Violet,” I tried. “These clothes aren’t really—”
“Shh.” She flapped a hand. “I’m on the phone.”
I clenched my teeth hard enough to crack my jaw. It was pointless arguing with her. She didn’t stick around for them. Every conversation I tried to have with Violet ended with her walking out of the room saying she had something important to attend to, or her hopping on the phone. She ignored me and then went on to do what she wanted anyway.
Umberto returned carrying a hot pink blazer. “What about—”
“No.”
Huffing, he marched off.
“Violet? Violet, is that you?”
We both turned as a cloud of Casablanca perfume spread through the boutique, bringing along three middle-aged women with it. I blinked at them. It was Violet, Violet, and Violet. No joke. The women resembled my aunt down to the same haircut, hair color, pearl necklaces, and sheath dresses.
“Violet, darling.” The woman at the front of the pack held out her arms. “There you are. We haven’t seen you at the spa since the whole... horrible business. We feared you ended your membership.”
Violet’s call was suddenly not so important. She cut off the person on the other end of the phone with a click. “Me? End my membership? Of course not.” She rose and accepted a dainty hug. “Life has just been so hectic since we took in Harry’s niece and nephew.”
My brows darted up my forehead. Hectic? The woman hardly deals with us outside of mealtimes.
The lady’s gaze slid to me. All traces of her pleasant smile vanished. “Ah. Ember Bancroft.”
I didn’t ask how she knew who I was. The half a dozen camera crews that littered my lawn as the FBI and Child Services hauled us out ensured everyone in the country knew who I was.
“I’m Ruth Slater. How are you holding up, dear?” she asked. “I imagine the last few weeks have been a trial.”
“To say the least.”
“You must miss your parents.” The women flanking her gave me smiles that didn’t reach their eyes. “Tell me, have you been in contact with them lately?”
“Nope.”
“And no idea of where they could be?”
“Not a clue.”
“Such a shame.” The frosty undertone in her voice lowered the temperature of the room. “My Edgar was one of the largest investors in the lodge. He lost over two million dollars.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Are you?”
I heard the challenge in her reply, and I ignored it. “Umberto,” I called, getting to my feet. “Bring on that pink blazer. I’ll see how it looks.”
“Truly?” He emerged from the rack, blazer in hand, and stalked me to the dressing room.
The soft murmur of conversation continued as I walked away.
“—gala tomorrow,” I heard. “Everyone is going...”
I stayed in the back, trying on clothes I’d never wear, until my aunt hunted me down.
“Ember, what is taking you so long? We must get to Maxfield’s before it closes. You need a dress for tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night?” I turned off the game I was playing on my phone. “What’s happening tomorrow night?”
“The Autumn Gala. My society throws it every year for the community, and we have to get you something appropriate to wear.”
I didn’t move from the pile of clothes I was sitting on. “I’m guessing that since this is the first I’ve heard about it, I wasn’t invited. What changed?”
There was a heavy pause. “Ember,” Violet said after a minute. “Will you get out of there so we can speak properly?”
Heaving myself up, I came out to my aunt and the three employees she had holding the bags.
“You weren’t invited,” she said bluntly. “A fact I made clear to Cheyenne, Antonella, and Wren, but they wouldn’t hear of it. The event is also one last get-together before the children leave for the academy and with you attending as well, they felt it only right that you come too. They called Chelsea and put you on the guest list and refusing would have seemed strange.”
I swallowed hard. “Strange? I’m sure those women know exactly why I wouldn’t want to go to their party.”
“All the same, you’re going.” She marched off. “Hurry up. We have to get your brother a tux too.”
Rooted to the spot, I calculated my odds of persuading Violet to go against the stiff-jawed society ladies she worshipped for the niece she barely thought of. My answer came back in the negatives.
“Ember, hurry up!”
I forced myself to follow her to Maxfield. Violet threw dress after dress in my arms, and in an increasing fit of defiance, I tossed them back and yanked one I didn’t completely despise off the rack.
She scowled. “Absolutely not. This is a high-class event. Put that back.”
“I either wear this”—I motioned to my jeans and t-shirt—“or this. You pick.”
Color stained her cheeks. “Excuse me?”
“If you want me to smile and charm and fake like we’re a happy family for one more week, you’ll at least let me wear an outfit I’m comfortable in.” I gave the dress a little shake. “What do you say, Aunt Violet? Not a bad trade-off for me being on my best behavior in front of your society friends.”
Violet wavered. “Best behavior? No pouting, back talking, or sitting in the corner listening to your strange Chinese music?”
“Korean music,” I corrected. “And yes.”
She spun on the clerk standing quietly next to us. “Get that dress in her size.”
An hour later, I had my dress and a pair of shoes to match. I hurried inside the house and went straight to Eli’s room with the bags. My brother was sitting up in bed, watching a movie. He noticed me just as I jumped. I smooshed him into the sheets, laughing my head off.