Chapter Twenty-Five Holly
Chapter Twenty-Five
HOLLY
Georgia Kensington steps into the elevator, a small phone clamped to her ear. She looks like a business woman from the fashion industry. Designer flats, skinny jeans and silk top on her narrow frame, with black curls framing her small jawline. I shuffle back, trying not to draw attention to myself.
‘No,’ Georgia speaks into her cell. ‘Adrianna doesn’t do videos. Ever. Just pictures. Sixty thousand dollars minimum per shoot. Plus expenses.’ She frowns, ends the call, then picks up another one right after it.
‘Dri?’ she says. ‘You’re serious? Silky isn’t answering? OK. OK. Just … get here. The floor is all ready for us.’
I can’t stop myself staring. There’s an obvious family re-semblance.
Lean with a long nose and pronounced lips.
But Georgia’s dark skin and clouds of hair soften the severity of her famous features.
There’s a perfection to her skin and body shape that’s hard to quantify in words.
Georgia veritably vibrates with understated beauty.
She’s prettier than her sister, I think. But her earnest face is taut and unsmiling, as though she constantly has something to worry about.
Georgia ends her call, and presses the top of her phone briefly to her forehead, as though resting a heavy load of thoughts. Her eyes catch me in the reflection of the elevator.
‘Are you waiting for someone?’ she asks.
‘I’m just figuring out the elevator.’ I’ve never been good at lying.
Georgia’s face shifts to something like disbelief.
She produces her own plastic key card, and leans forward to press the elevator button, somehow managing to channel that she’s worth a million bucks, doing the most mundane of acts.
There’s a noise like a power-up on a computer game, and a console of numbers flashes into life behind the glass panel.
‘That is so cool!’ I can’t help but be impressed.
Georgia’s brown eyes flash brief shock. ‘What floor do you want?’
I catch sight of something on her slim brown little finger. A golden crest. To my shock, I realize she’s wearing Simone’s signet ring. Horror flushes through me.
How did Georgia get that ring? Simone never took it off.
I’m so distracted by this, I say the first floor that comes to mind.
‘Forty-four.’ I tell her, then curse myself.
‘That’s the dress fitting.’ She pauses. ‘I’m sorry. Who are you?’ Her eyes linger for just a moment too long on my shoes. College parties rush back to me. I was always the poor relation. The one who didn’t know how to dress or stand right.
I adjust my skirt. ‘I’m Holly.’ It comes out slightly squeaky.
‘Wait. Are you a journalist?’ Georgia is fumbling with her phone. ‘I told Adrianna that Plaza security wasn’t good enough,’ she tells me. ‘When are you people going to leave her alone?’
‘I’m not a journalist!’
She narrows her eyes. ‘You know my sister was prescribed antidepressants for a year because of women like you? Pretending to be her friends, then selling her out?’
‘Mark Li asked me to be here,’ I blurt. ‘I work for Liberation Law.’
As soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret them. I probably should have invented some clever excuse. I picture Fitzwilliam and Ortiz’s despair.
‘You’re a lawyer? Oh.’ She computes something rapidly. ‘Did Mark bring you in to replace Simone?’
‘I … um. Mark wanted an expert,’ I tell her. ‘So … I guess … Here I am.’ I let the phrase drift, rubbing the back of my neck uncomfortably.
She’s taking me in with new eyes now. ‘Well, well,’ she decides. ‘I guess Mark Li has finally found his backbone. Good for him. I was wondering when he’d finally stand up to my dad. Not sure his judgment is great, though.’
Georgia scans my figure thoughtfully, and extends a hand.
‘I’m Georgia Kensington. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot. You can’t be too careful where Adrianna is concerned. You would be amazed what people will do for a single picture.’
I shake her hand uncertainly as her fingers close with surprising firmness on mine. ‘I’m Holly Stone.’
I try not to stare at the ring on her finger.
‘Nice to make your acquaintance,’ she says matter-of-factly. ‘Word of warning: I’d keep out of my dad’s way, Holly. Mark choosing a bridesmaid without checking in is going to infuriate him.’
‘Wait … Bridesmaid?’
‘Didn’t Mark tell you?’ Georgia looks puzzled. ‘You can’t be the lawyer unless you’re the bridesmaid too. It’s a trust thing,’ she says, as if this is completely regular. ‘Wait … Adrianna knows you’re here, right?’
‘I’m not sure.’ This is mostly true, I decide. ‘We haven’t met,’ I add, wondering how long I have to keep this untruth going before I can escape with what I came here to find.
‘O-kay. So you’re waiting to find out if Dri approves you?
If we put the right dress on you, you might pass.
’ Her eyes drops to my waistline. ‘You’ll have to fit for the fashion sponsor too …
We’ll need to see if Dri likes you,’ Georgia is opening the camera app on her cell and points it at me. ‘Smile.’
The camera flashes before I can rearrange my features.
‘Does she not like people in general?’ I ask Georgia, wondering what kind of grimacing shocked expression of me she just captured.
‘Would you?’ Georgia looks at me pointedly. ‘If a pack of paparazzi stalked you across the globe, and every cab driver and busboy sold your story for the highest bidder?’
‘Guess not,’ I admit. My eyes drift to where the elevator buttons are now lit up. Then I see it. A tiny circle. Glowing.
That’s where I need to fit the service panel key.
The doors of the elevator slide open, and Georgia strides out.
It’s opened into a vestibule that looks nothing like the rest of the hotel.
It’s been repainted entirely in black and gold, and eerily void of people.
The only color is from rose-gold industrial-style clothing racks of colorful garments that are arranged in rows.
‘Whoa!’ I’m taking it all in, open-mouthed. Georgia glances back. I close my mouth and try to look sophisticated.
‘Silly me,’ I announce. ‘I forgot something in the lobby. I’ll just go back and get it.’
The doors close before I press the button. Someone else must be calling the elevator. The shaft buzzes and the carriage begins to descend.