Chapter 7
seven
FRANCIE
“Seriously,” I tell Charlie. “I don’t think I should be let out in public.”
One sleepless night, a bucket of humiliation, and the lingering image of Asher’s face after my sex club comment – and I’d rather be anywhere but Liberty Island.
It’s only because Autumn is my best friend that I’m staying here and facing the humiliation I so rightly deserve.
Right now I’m in one of the offices in the Grand Liberty Hotel – the hotel that Hudson bought and renovated and Autumn helped decorate – getting ready to show my face at the party in the extensive grounds that stretch down to the ocean.
The second I dropped that sex club line, Asher stared at me like I’d grown antlers and walked out without a word. I stood there, wondering if it was possible to strangle yourself with your own hands, until Autumn came back.
They were the longest five minutes of my life.
“That sex club’s the gift that keeps on giving,” Charlie splutters. “God, never change.”
“Francie, are you in here?” Autumn calls out.
“Gotta go,” I tell Charlie.
“Keep me updated if you say anything else completely inappropriate,” he tells me gleefully.
“I’m taking a vow of silence,” I reply, only half joking. “I’m going to become a Trappist nun.”
“Good luck explaining your sex club visit to them.” He disconnects before I can reply, and Autumn runs in, her face flushed.
“I need your…” She stops dead in her tracks, her eyes wide. “Oh, wow. You look amazing.”
I glance down at the costume she chose for me. She’s already in her dress – a pale blue Cinderella costume made of satin, with a tight bodice, heart shaped low neckline, and a skirt that could rival Scarlet O’Hara for its puffiness.
Autumn decided I should be Belle because the yellow gold of the dress matches my tan skin and dark, wavy hair. She was right, damn her.
“That neckline is completely inappropriate. I love it.” She grins, taking in the cut that’s much lower than hers, and the sleeves that are so far off the shoulder they’re halfway down my arms. I’ve never been known for having ample cleavage, but this dress is working overtime. My boobs are halfway to my chin.
But it’s the skirt I love the most. It’s full and floaty, cascading in golden ruffles from my hips to the floor. Not as dramatic as Autumn’s, but it makes me feel like a Disney heroine with a secret.
“Okay,” she says, grabbing my arm. “We need to get this party started.”
For the next hour I’m Autumn’s servant, running this way and that, hiking my skirt up with my hands because rushing around in a full dress is way harder than it looks. I have no idea how Victorian women got anything done. No wonder they spent half their lives fainting.
Guests start to arrive, and Autumn gestures me over. “I need you to keep Mylene busy,” she hisses, somehow managing to still keep a welcoming smile on her lips. “Because Eileen just walked in.”
“I thought Cinderella was the one who got bossed around,” I complain, but I say it lightly, because I’d do anything for her and she knows it.
Eileen and Mylene are the sixty-one year old twins who haven’t spoken to each other for forty years, even though they live and work less than two hundred yards apart from each other.
Nobody knows the reason for their feud, but whatever it is, they’ve managed to completely ignore each other all this time.
I rush over to Mylene, who takes two glasses of champagne from the server. She’s dressed as Queen Victoria, I think, complete with black dress, a blue sash, and a veil over her face to show she’s mourning the death of her husband, Prince Albert.
From the corner of my eye I see Autumn ushering Eileen away, keeping her hand on her arm so Eileen doesn’t see her twin sister is here, too.
My mouth drops open when I see she’s also dressed as Queen Victoria. How the hell are we going to be able to tell them apart?
In fact, how do we even know who is who now? The twins get completely tetchy if you call them by the wrong name. And I don’t want to be responsible for ruining this party.
“Hi,” I say breathlessly when I reach her. “Remember me? I’m Francie, Autumn’s friend.”
“I know who you are,” she says haughtily, her accent sounding suspiciously British. As though she’s taken on Queen Victoria’s persona along with the dress. “Iced latte, even in the winter when your stomach really would do better with a warm drink.”
Okay, it’s definitely Mylene. She runs the coffee shop, Brewed Awakenings, at the top of the hill that leads down to the ferry. You can see Eileen’s By The Sea – the guest house that her twin sister owns – from the shop. And still they pretend the other doesn’t exist.
“You’re right,” I tell her. “I get terrible gripes in the winter.”
For a second she says nothing. And I’m reminded of the silence between me and Asher yesterday.
Don’t say sex club. Don’t say sex club.
“Autumn’s decided to make you the guest of honor,” I babble. “Isn’t that great?”
“What?” She looks understandably confused.
“Just you. Nobody else. You get to be treated like a VIP.” I’m making it up as I go along and it shows. Autumn is probably going to kill me. “Anything you want, you just tell me and I’ll arrange it.”
“Another glass of champagne would be good.”
She’s already drained both glasses. Fantastic. A tipsy Queen Victoria is exactly what this party needs.
“Of course. But first I need to take you on the tour,” I say, offering her my arm like I’m her beau. “It’s part of the honor.”
“I have a bad leg.”
That she does. It takes almost forty minutes for me to take her around to see the whole spectacle that Autumn has arranged.
I show her the candy stalls, the dance floor, the face painting, and everything else that I can think of.
I even decide that she has to meet the chef in the kitchen of the hotel.
“I’m getting very tired now. And very thirsty,” she tells me as we take our leave from Martin, the Michelin starred chef that Hudson headhunted to run the kitchen here. He seemed as perplexed as Mylene as to what she was doing here, but at least I’ve kept her out of the way of Eileen.
I send Autumn a message to ask her where Eileen is, because after all this work I don’t want them coming face to face as we walk back into the garden.
Eileen’s sitting down by the bar. Just stay away from there and we’re good. – Autumn.
Mylene wants a drink. What do I do with her? – Francie.
The party has really filled up since we went inside. We have to walk even slower than before to make our way through the crowd.
“Oh look!” I say, my voice way too high and enthusiastic. “There’s the carousel. You get to ride on that too.”
“I don’t want to ride on it,” she says.
The carousel is the party’s piece de resistance. It’s full size, complete with an intricately painted canopy and hand-crafted horses that each have different colors and expressions.
“It’s part of the guest of honor’s duties,” I tell her, sending up a prayer of apology for being such a liar. I’m doing it for the best reasons, mostly because the Carousel is in the children’s part of the party, a long way from the bar and her twin sister.
But still, a lie is a lie.
“I guess you could skip it,” I muse. “Maybe Autumn could find somebody else to do it. I hear your sister is here.”
Mylene’s expression turns dark. “I’m the guest of honor, of course I’ll do it.”
“Great.” I beam at her, offering her my arm again right as the carousel slows down to a stop.
We walk to the front, and I manage to get her up the step and walk her to a carriage that’s painted white and gold.
“This one is for you,” I tell her, because I think getting on a horse might cause her an injury.
Once she’s settled down, I walk over to the operator. “Please run it three times, don’t let anybody off.”
Because I need a break. And to call Autumn. I’m not sure how long I can keep this up.
I’m back on the grass when the carousel starts up. I grab my phone and pull up Autumn’s name. She answers almost immediately.
“Mylene isn’t doing as she’s told,” I tell her.
Autumn gives an annoyed grunt. “You’re doing a great job,” she reassures me.
“But Eileen has decided to take up court in the bar. I’ve paid the barman to keep her here.
Just keep Mylene away and we’ll be good.
I’ve arranged for Mylene to leave on the shuttle at five.
You only have another couple of hours to keep her busy, then you’re done, I promise. ”
“How do I keep her away from the bar?” I ask plaintively.
Somebody says something to Autumn. “I have to go,” she says quickly. “Thank you so much for this. You’re a star.”
“I’m starting to understand why the evil stepmother hated Cinderella,” I mutter, as she ends the call.
ASHER
“Damn, check out Belle,” a voice behind me says. “She’s practically spilling out of that dress.”
My jaw clenches.
I turn to find two twenty-something idiots ogling Francie like she’s a side of meat. One is dressed as Prince, complete with purple velvet, eyeliner, and a fake guitar. The other’s in an Aladdin costume with a smug grin plastered across his face.
“Who are you here with?” I ask, my voice cold.
They blink at me. “Uh, we’re interns. We work for Hudson.”
Of course they are.
“Well, consider this your first lesson in not being a complete asshole,” I say. “The woman you’re talking about is family. If Hudson hears you talking like that, you’d be on the next ferry, if I don’t throw you in the ocean first.”
They straighten defensively. I take a step forward.
“I’m Asher Fitzgerald,” I add. “Hudson’s brother.”
That does the trick. They back off fast, muttering apologies as they disappear into the crowd.
I exhale through my nose and rub a hand over my jaw.
Francie’s barely said two words to me since I walked out on her yesterday, and I’m here playing party cop while my company’s hanging on by a thread. Nathan’s lawyer emailed twice already this morning, and I have three missed calls from his sister.