Chapter 7
Francesca
Eve blinked through wet eyelashes. She was one of the lucky ones—she was a pretty crier. Some women got all blotchy and red and swollen when they cried. But not Eve. Was there anything not perfect about her?
“What did you say?” The pitch of her voice rose, and her eyes widened.
“Never mind.” I shook my head, feeling stupid for having asked her such a question. Were we in high school? “It's really none of my business. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad that I—”
She closed her eyes and—
Laughed.
Her head fell forward, and her shoulders shook.
I was glad that I hadn't angered her. But that didn't mean I wasn't feeling all kinds of uncomfortable at her reaction. Mostly because I didn't know what it meant.
Was she laughing because Stefan had entertained a steady stream of hot women in his bed since I'd been gone? The thought of even one woman in his bed made me sick. I wasn't sure how I was going to act if I found out he'd been really busy without me.
Eve opened her eyes. Then she wiped her cheeks with the palms of her hands.
“Oh, my gosh. You really have no idea. Do you?” Her damp hands landed on my bare shoulders.
“That man only has eyes for you.” She gazed at my face like she was looking for something to pop up on it.
And I definitely didn't know what she wanted to see emerge.
“He's been worried sick. Every day.” Her hands cupped my face. “He's in love with you, Francesca.” Her thumbs brushed away tears on my face that I didn't realize had fallen. “He loves you.”
My throat grew dry, and I felt a lump grow inside it. Those weren't the words I expected to hear from her. In fact, I wasn't sure if those were the words I wanted to hear at all.
Were they?
“He was so lost without you. So heartbroken.” She shook her head from side to side.
“So, no, Francesca. Stefan didn't date anyone while you were gone.” She straightened up and took a deep breath.
“Now, let's get you ready.” She picked up a tube of concealer and opened it.
“Look up for a minute, honey,” she said, squeezing out a glob of the liquid onto her hand.
So—I did what she asked. And—mostly in silence—she applied all kinds of lush products I'd only dreamed of trying. I could eat for two months for what she paid for that foundation.
And I knew that because I'd looked it up a while ago.
But if I had Eve's money, I guess I wouldn't have to worry about how I'd afford groceries. Or if I could make rent this month or not.
A little while later, she announced I was finished. “Take a look.” She stepped back and let me peer into the mirror.
Holy.
Crap.
My face was—flawless.
Perfection.
It was natural-looking—considering the dozen or so products she'd used on me. I had never looked this good in my life.
“Wow, you're gorgeous,” Giselle's voice sailed into the room. I turned my head to see her walking in with a long white dress in her arms. “Not that you need any makeup.”
Eve smiled and nodded as she spoke to her friend, “Right? I'd kill for her perfect bone structure.”
Giselle set the dress on the bed. “Tell me about it. I paid a lot of money for these cheekbones.” Her fingers touched her face. “And they don't look half as good as hers.” She nodded her head at me.
Eve laughed heartily. “You mean Carlo paid for your cheekbones.”
Giselle's face erupted in a huge grin. She shrugged. “Funny how that worked out.” Then they shared a secret look with each other. But I had no idea what it meant.
Part of me was happy for them. Happy they had someone to share knowing looks with. Happy they had each other. You could surely see the bond they had from space. I knew I could feel it. Their connection was obvious when I first met them in the hospital.
But part of me—the part I didn't like to admit to—was also jealous of what they had. What they shared.
And yeah.
I knew how crappy that was of me. I knew what a horrible person I was for wishing I was part of their group. Wishing for whatever tiny scraps of friendship they were willing to toss out to me.
Gosh.
I was freaking pathetic.
I didn't resent anyone for being happy.
I just wanted a friend, too.
Yes, I had a sister.
A twin sister.
Everyone in the world assumed that having a twin meant you also had a built-in bestie. And while that was kind of true—it was also kind of not.
Felicia and I shared a womb. And we just happened to share exact genetics.
But that didn't mean we also shared some kind of karmic connection. Or at least we didn't.
She was a sibling.
Someone I always had to keep track of and protect growing up.
But that wasn't the same thing as what Giselle and Eve had. Or what Nick, Carlo, and Stefan shared.
“All right, we have exactly zero time left. Carlo and Nick have been texting me like mad.” Giselle laughed softly and walked toward me.
“I told them you'll be ready when you're ready.” She stopped at the vanity and opened one of the drawers.
“I'm thinking of an updo. It'll go nicely with that dress.
Don't you think?” She gazed over at Eve briefly.
Eve nodded and plugged in a hair dryer. “Absolutely.” She gazed at me in the mirror. “Giselle does good hair. Trust me. You'll love whatever she comes up with.”
After that, it was all a blur of hairbrushes, combs, and product.
Then more hairbrushes, pins, products, and combs.
By the time Giselle was finished styling and twisting my hair into some kind of masterpiece—there was a knock on the door.
Eve and Giselle glanced over at the door and then at each other.
“I'll deal with it,” Eve said with a sigh.
She spun on her heel and headed toward the door.
When she got there—she barely opened it a crack. “What?” she said with a hasty breath.
I heard Nick's voice say something inaudible. And then Eve replied with, “We're almost done. You can't rush perfection.”
Nick said something that made her giggle in a sexy, teasing way. I felt myself blush even though it wasn't exactly my fault we were eavesdropping.
Nick continued speaking, but Eve cut him off.
“Shh, you're going to wake the kids. Go downstairs and wait for us.
It won't be long.” Then she pulled the door open enough so she could poke her head out.
I heard them kiss and whisper a bit more.
A few moments later—she gently closed the door and leaned against it.
“The men are growing impatient.” She had a mischievous grin on her pretty face.
Yes, Eve was beautiful. Anyone could see that. But it was at that moment I understood why Nick chose her for his wife. I mean, let's face it. Nick was a wealthy, good-looking man. He undoubtedly had his pick of beautiful women. All over the world.
But obviously he'd waited for something—special.
Something—right.
Something worth it.
And I could see why that something was Eve.
She was beautiful. Exceptionally so.
But she was smart. And fun.
And playful.
And I had a feeling that a woman like her would give everything she had to a man. As long as he did the same for her.
The vulnerability of that scenario made my stomach twist slightly. The odd thing was, I didn't know if it was in a bad way or not. The thought of giving someone—everything—all of myself—gosh. That was frightening.
But Eve didn't seem scared. At all.
Nope.
She seemed deep, deep—deep, in love with her husband.
“Let's get you dressed.” She pushed away from the door and strode to the bed. Her hands lingered carefully on the white lace of the dress. “I can't wait to see you in this.”
Giselle smiled and stretched her hand out to me.
“I know. Especially with the plunging neckline.
She's going to look amazing,” she answered Eve, but kept her eyes on me the entire time.
She led me over to the dress on the bed and let go of my hand.
“First of all, I have some—” she winked at me, “fancy underthings.” She slipped her hand underneath the dress and pulled out stockings and a thong.
“I bought the stockings the last time we were in Italy. And believe me—” she looked me right in the eye.
“Carlo appreciates each and every time I wear them.” She and Eve broke out in laughter.
“I figured they could be your 'something borrowed.’” She tossed the stockings to Eve.
“I made the thong a while ago. It's brand new.”
Then she knelt down, the thong spread. Waiting for me. I stepped into it, and she slid it up my thighs, raising the towel with her hands as she went.
Once it was in place, Eve whistled. “Stefan is going to thank you for your handiwork. I can tell you that much.” They giggled again while Eve helped me on with the stockings. They hugged my legs, and the wide lace at the top was gorgeous. I hesitantly touched the intricate trim with my fingertips.
“All right. Time to drop the towel.” Giselle stood quickly, and before I could stop her—she whisked the towel away.
And then her face froze.
So did Eve's.
They stared at my ribs.
My still-bruised ribs.
Immediately—but still not quite fast enough—I attempted to cover my ribs with my hands. “I'm fine, really. It's almost healed up.” I felt my mouth move faster than my brain. Which was never a good thing.
The women didn't move.
Crap.