Invitation Only (Private 2) - Page 71

“But . . . what about Natasha?” I said, a swirling mire of des­per­ation open­ing in­side my chest. “If I tell her I gave that to you, she's go­ing to send those pic­tures. I'm go­ing to get kicked out.”

“Stop whin­ing,” Noelle said. “It doesn't be­come you.”

She fas­tened an ear­ring in­to her ear and then turned around, re­gard­ing me with an al­most pity­ing smile.

“Wait--,” I start­ed to protest.

Noelle brought her hands up to her lips. “Ssssh­hh,” she said, in an al­most com­fort­ing way. “Look, just for­get about that for right now, okay?” And then she smiled. “Now, did Whit­tak­er ask you to the Lega­cy or not?” she said.

What the hell did that have to do with any­thing?

'Yes."

“Good,” Noelle said. “He gave you the neck­lace?”

“Yeah. What's that about?” I asked.

“You have to wear it. It's your pass to get in,” Noelle said.

Damn. Who­ev­er heard of a par­ty where the proof of in­vi­ta­tion was a sol­id-?gold-?and-?di­amond neck­lace? Who paid for this stuff?

“Let's do this.” Noelle nod­ded over my shoul­der at Ar­iana, who reached in­to her clos­et and pulled out an in­cred­ible, shim­mer­ing gold gown in a clear bag. A gold mask with a white feath­er across

208

one side hung from the sil­ver hang­er. She draped the dress across one arm and brought it over, hold­ing it out to me. The gown took my breath away, even as the rest of me was still reel­ing from ev­ery­thing else.

“That's for me?” I said.

“Ki­ran guessed your mea­sure­ments,” Ar­iana ex­plained.

“Girl has a nine­ty-?nine point nine per­cent suc­cess rate,” Noelle said. “It's a tal­ent.”

“I don't be­lieve this,” I told them, over­whelmed.

Noelle shrugged. “I called in a fa­vor at Rober­to Cav­al­li. You can't ex­act­ly go to the Lega­cy in jeans and a T-?shirt.” She looked me up and down, amused. “We'll talk about this lat­er.” She turned around and lift­ed her thick mane of hair. “Un­zip me?”

I hes­itat­ed. 'You're get­ting un­dressed?"

“It's not like we sneak off cam­pus in ball gowns, Reed. That would be a lit­tle too con­spic­uous,” she said.

“Oh.”

I reached out and un­zipped her dress from the top all the way down her back. She stepped out of the gown, com­plete­ly naked, and walked slow­ly over to her clos­et to slip in­to her silk robe. As she turned around I caught a glimpse of her an­gry red stom­ach scar. She didn't seem to be in a hur­ry to hide it--or any­thing else for that mat­ter.

“Take it,” Ar­iana said, hold­in

g the gold dress up.

'Yeah. Then go see if Ki­ran has any shoes that will match,“ Noelle said, then laughed. ”I think it's safe to as­sume she does."

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Gin­ger­ly, I took the dress from Ar­iana's arms. She smiled at me in a proud way. Like she was a moth­er dress­ing her lit­tle tomboy for the prom. I had no idea what to say. I knew I should thank them, but how was I go­ing to walk out of here with ab­so­lute­ly noth­ing re­solved?

“But-”

“We'll talk about it lat­er,” Noelle re­peat­ed firm­ly. “Now go. We on­ly have an hour be­fore it gets dark.”

Tags: Kate Brian Private
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