I dreamed of her curly hair, of his blue eyes. They held my little hands as our feets sicked into the sand. The smell of salt water and their fragrances were intoxicating. He laughed, and she laughed, and as his pale hands held mine, and her brown hand caressed my hair, I couldn't help but feel free. Like I was the happiest girl in the world.
Her lips landed on my head. "Love you till the ends of the earth my little Isa."
My eyes opened. I looked around the room, at the view on my left side and the nightstand on my right. My eyes became all droopy and I went back to sleep, not wanting to think about why I dreamed of my parents.
—
"Wake up!"
"Grace stop!"
My eyes opened wide. What the hell.
I woke up to see two girls in very thin gowns throwing pillows at each other in my room. The girl with brown hair, who the girl with ginger curls referred to as "Grace" started shouting. "We should take her," she yells, snatching the pillow from ginger curls.
"No way! We shouldn't even be here! Let's go before we wake her up!"
"What's going on,"I say.
Both girls stop what they're doing and turn to me, their eyes wide as if they were caught in a bad act. "Holy shit she's awake."
I quickly rise from the cushion. Before falling asleep I had changed into a long sweater and oversized trousers, my hair was in a messy bun—plus my curls had returned. I looked ridiculous while they looked so well-groomed—almost ready for a party. "Why are you two in my room," I demand, "let alone fighting in my room."
Grace shakes her head. "We're sorry, we weren't trying to wake you—well technically we were but that's besides the point," she says with a nervous smile.
I looked at her in disbelief. "Ok, your point?"
Ginger curls goes in front of her. "Look, we heard you arrived today and we really wanted to meet you. But you had been sleeping in your room for a while and we came in to check up on you," she says, then turns to Grace and gives her a snarl, "but then my dear friend over here tried to wake you up and I tried to stop her."
I shake my head, confused. "Wait wait … who the hell even are you guys."
Grace smiles brightly, showing a ray of white teeth. "I'm Grace Vemoure, and this is my cousin, Allison, I'd been dying to meet you since the engagement," she says all giddy.
"E-engagement?"
She nods her head. "Yup, you're marrying my brother."
—
The second floor was just as beautiful as the first, I sat with Allison and Grace in the marble counter that was in the kitchen. Grace had a container of celery in her hands, Allison drank a can of coke. The last fifteen minutes were … something.
After trying to kick them out of my room and failing, Grace had dragged me to the second floor to talk—which was not something I had planned. Apparently Grace was my fiance's little sister, and Allsion was their cousin from their mothers side. They seemed so giddy to see me, as if they didn't know the whole marriage was arranged.
"So his name is Valorie?" I asked, just to make sure.
Grace nodded, taking a bite of celery, not minding that it was ruining her lipstick. They were both dressed formally, Grace wore a black laced gown, and Allison wore a green one, I suppose they were trying to match. "Everyone calls him Val for short though," she says. "I heard so many things about you, but no pictures—I begged my mother for them. I was a little surprised to see you in person though, you weren't at all what I imagined."
I almost scoff. "What? White? Blonde? Demanding? A bitch?"
"All of the above," Allison suggested.
"But you're really beautiful," Grace said leaning in closer to my face.
I couldn't help but smile. I didn't think I was ugly, but beautiful was a stretch. "Thanks," I said.
"You'd look even more beautiful in a red gown."
I frowned.
Allison groaned, setting her coke down. "Grace, we can't take her to the damn gala! We've been over this."
"But why not?" Grace urged, placing her container down, she slipped off the counter, walking to where Allison stood . "We're not even gonna stay for long anyway, we just get a couple of shots and then dip, my parents are never gonna notice we were there."
"It's not about us,"Allison explains. "Isabella can't leave, Vic already went over this."
"Vic? As in Victor,"I asked. "He was here?"
"He changed into his tux after his mission, he told us to look after you while he was gone," Allison explains.
"Operation, not mission," Grace corrected. "We're not the CIA."
As young as Grace is, most likely my age, I'm surprised to see that she doesn't even feel a little weirded out about her family's business. But I suppose she was raised into it.
Grace turns to me. "Do you want to go?"
Allison gave Grace a glare. "Grace, don't get us in trouble."
Grace's green eyes don't leave mine. She looks so much like Louis and Victor, sharp stare and bright pink under eyes; just like a painting.
"I was told I didn't need to go," I told her, "but Sophia didn't say I wasn't allowed."
Grace clasps her hands, turning to a worned-out Allison. "Then it's settled."
—
Grace had dragged me to her room on the second floor. Her room was beautiful, it was about the same size as mine but hers was more decorated, racks of hangers hung her multitude of clothes, posters pasted to the walls—even the ceiling—and a wide desk housing so much makeup and fragrances. Her walls were a deep purple, with dim red lanterns hanging on the corners of the room. She had a small window that showed the view of the suite's balcony.
I sat at the edge of her bed. "Your room is beautiful." I truly meant it. Father didn't allow me to decorate my room, I lived my life in the vast but dull walls of my bedroom that didn't have a single poster hung. I had classic artwork and books, but decoration and color was never allowed.
Allison had come out of Grace's bathroom, her hands wet. "I set up a bath for you," she says. "Sit in the steamy water for fifteen minutes and let everything sink in."
"And then I'll do your makeup," Grace adds on, shuffling through her racks of clothes.
The next thirty minutes was the most fun—and most tiring—thing that happened since I stepped foot out the manor. As I washed up in Grace's luxurious bathroom I heard Allison and Grace fight about which red dress I should wear. I couldn't help but laugh.
Grace had blasted music by Arctic Monkeys on full volume when I walked out the bathroom. I sat down in front of her dresser, looking at the reflection of my damp hair and glowing skin. "What oils were those," I asked Allison."
"Prime Seduct, one of Vemoure Fragrances most famous bathing oils, it does wonders to your skin,"she says, pausing, she leans in to sniff my hair, "it smells like a garden of flowers, one of the most richest scents."
I found the scent calming, and the effects it had on my body were incredible.
Grace opened a drawer and took out a blow dryer, she handed it to Allison. "Most of the time the maids can't properly handle my hair so I do it myself." Allison plugs it in and starts blow drying my hair.
While Allison did my hair, Grace started doing my makeup. It wasn't anything crazy or extra, a little countering, eyeliner, some pink blush, and then thick red lipstick to top it off. Allsion had curled my hair and my brown curls looked darker, giving me a gothic look.
"How old are you both," I asked.
"We're both seventeen."
"Are you both still in high school?"
"Yes," Grace sighs. "I can't wait to be done with St. James this year—I'll finally be able to leave this city and go abroad. What about you? I heard you're in college."
"I'm starting at Barnard in the fall."
"Are you a late applicant?" Allison asks, confused.
I shake my head. "I graduated in Spring," I said, and they both stopped what they were doing. "I'm seventeen," I clarify.
Grace looked at me stunned. "Holy shit! You're our age, that's so cool—wait but why are you getting married so early?"
It took me a moment to reply—after all, what was I going to say?
They were just two teengers, staring at a fellow teenager who was going to be wed, years earlier from them. I wonder how they feel.
I decided to change the subject. "Why is your brother being wed so early," I asked Grace. Val was only two years older than me.
Allison becomes stiff all of a sudden, but Grace shrugs off my question, she walks back to the rack and picks up a red gown. "Things happen,"Grace says, not wanting to elaborate. "Now let's get you dressed."
—
We were back on the first floor, I stared at my reflection in the piano room. The girl looking back at me wasn't me. I don't know who the hell she was. She was gorgeous, sexy even, scarlet lips, dark hair that shines under the chandelier light—she was no princess, she was devilish.
The red gown fit my figure perfectly, it matched with Grace's and Allison's gowns as well. The lace straps and the tightness at my hips made me uncomfortable but the silky fabric made me warm. I put on Allison's silver heels.
Allison and I sat in the living room, she had put her curls in a bun, small strands falling down at the back making her look effortlessly beautiful. Allison was in fact gorgeous, a short but slim figure with a smile that could shatter hearts. Grace was more on the neutral side, brown hair a shade lighter than mine, and piercing green eyes, she looked like a cosmetic model.
"So," Allison starts. "I heard Vic's your bodyguard."
I was zoning out, picturing the dream that I had earlier that was slowly fading from my mind. My head snapped to her. "Apparently," I said.
Allison sinks into the cushion. "If he gives you any shit, tell me," she says, "he can be a total asshole sometimes."
I almost laughed. "Are you two close?"
She nods. "Yeah, I was raised in this tower along with the whole crew—it's Grace, Val, Sophia, Hunter, Veronica, Lou, and Victor. I wasn't technically a part of the family but I was treated like one."
I sat up, letting my arm rest on the pillow. "Your Grace's cousin, from her mothers side, no?"
"Yes, but me and Grace aren't related, my aunt was Grace's fathers second wife, but she raised Grace so Grace likes to refer to her as her actual mom."
"Oh … what about your parents?"
Allison stared at the ceiling, quiet and still. She turned to face the window. "They were killed."
Silence draped us like a fallen curtain. Allison looked away, staring at the chandelier dangling from the ceiling. I tried to move closer to her. "Wh—"
"Ladies!"
Allison and I rose from the cushion, heads snapped to the person standing in front of the living room. The butler from earlier, Lily was standing right by his side, a grim look plastered on her face. "Elvis?" Allison said. "What's the matter?"
He scoffs, walking towards me. "Your maid could not find you in your room, what do you think you're doing, all dressed up?"
I hesitate but Allison answers for me. "We're taking her to the gala."
I notice a vein appear on Elvis's forehead and almost laugh.
"You ladies know that you aren't supposed to be attending that gala—what would the master say if he saw you all now, disobeying his orders."
Grace slipped into the room at the best moment, she was holding her bag and a purse in her hand. "What's going on?"
Elvis stared at her in annoyance. "What's going on?" he mocked. "You should be in your rooms getting ready for school! You and Allison shouldn't be up this late at night."
Grace crosses her arms. "And who are you to tell me what to do? My mother must've forgotten to tell you but she actually told us to accompany Ms. Eclipse to the gala tonight." She gave me a sneaky smile.
"That's a lie," Elvis spat, his voice stern.
Grace pouted. "Do you need me to call my mother? You know how she is about repeating herself."
Elvis tensed. "That won't be necessary. But I will say, you will be in far more trouble if you're lying." He then turns to me, staring daggers into my eyes. "Is Miss Grace speaking the truth?"
I shake my head a little too hard. "Not a lie was told."
Elvis sighs and then turns to Lily. "Your job is to keep an eye on her," he spat.
Lily bows her head slowly, she stares at the floor. "I apologize."
I walk towards her. "I'm sorry, I should've never left my room—"
"There is no need to apologize," she says coldly, and then walks away, entering the dining room.
Grace smiles and blows a kiss at Elvis. "Well if that's all then I believe it's time for me and my girls to go!"
"At least let me get the driver—"
"No need, I called an uber."
Allison, Grace, and I walked out the living room, giggling under our breaths as Grace gave Allison her purse. When we stood in front of the elevator, I whispered into Allison's ear. "What's an uber?"
She gave me a funny look.