Page 5 of Madam Alana

“I found the perfect dress for you,” Celine announced.

I sighed and moved to approach, but one of the girlssnatched the gown out of Celine’s hands.

“That was one of the options I was saving to try on!” thegirl snapped. She was a tall German woman with light brown hair that fell toher shoulders.

“It’s literally a size two. Are you going to fit all of thatinto this itty-bitty dress?” Celine gestured to the woman’s very tall framebefore swiping the dress back and tucking it behind her.

“Are you calling me fat?” the German female hissed, hercheeks turning pink.

Celine shook her head and made a rude noise. “No, youdimwit, it’s science. You’re like five thousand feet tall. And what, a sizeten? Twelve maybe? That’s nowhere near fat. What you are not is a size two,like my petite friend here.” She hooked a thumb toward me.

The woman glared.

“You can have it. I don’t really care.” I entered the conversation,taking the dress from Celine who begrudgingly released it. “I’m sorry if sheaccidentally took a gown you preferred. We’ll look at the others.” I held thedress out. We needed to keep the peace at all costs, and my Celine knew how toget us into trouble. It was my job to keep us out of it. Though her fierytemper was an ongoing battle.

The woman and I stared at the dress hanging before me.

It was a truly magnificent gown.

Simple spaghetti straps with a triangle-shaped top. Thedress was an old-fashioned, off-white, lace gown. The back fell completelyopen, with a zipper enclosure that would fall only a couple inches above mybum. The fabric went all the way to the floor, including a couple extra feet oflace that formed a small train.

It was perfection.

The exact dress I would have picked to wear to a wedding I’dchosen and planned for myself.

“No, your friend is right,” the woman stated in a thickGerman accent. “It is small and would look good on you.Vielglück.”She shoved the dress back toward me and turnedaway with the few dresses she’d gathered already slung over her shoulder.

“What’svielglückagain? German’s hard for me,” Celine griped.

“It means good luck.” I held the dress up in front of me,facing one of the many freestanding mirrors placed around the room. It reallywas beautiful. “Did you find one for yourself?”

“Nope.” She hooked her arm through my elbow, linking ustogether. “Help me choose.”

* * * *

Once we’d chosen our dresses, we put them on and then wentto the vanity provided in the corner. Makeup and hair bits and bobs covered thesurface. I lined my eyes into a perfect cat’s-eye shape with black liquid. Iadded a touch of shimmery blush to my cheeks and then painted my lips a boldcherry red. It was the color of the nightgown I’d worn. The same hue that hadto have caught my Frenchman’s attention so fully that he’d bid five milliondollars for my hand in marriage. I thought it fitting to wear it for him as areminder of his choice, lest he wanted to back out.

One by one we were called to action.

Celine and I held hands.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” I murmured, clinging toher.

She leaned her head on my shoulder. “It’s only five years.”

I nodded even though my entire being felt as if it werebeing ripped in half. “How am I going to survive without you?”

She laughed openly. Her laugher was always loud and free,reminding me of the good times we’d carved out of our sad circumstances over theyears.

“Ever heard of a thing called a phone?” she reminded me.

“And how am I going to get your phone number? Will yourhusband allow you to call me? What if I don’t have access to a phone? That’snot unrealistic, Celine. They could prevent us from ever talking to one anotheragain. How are we going to find each other?” I fretted.

“Oren,” she stated flatly, bringing up our hotel friend.“The Purple Lotus will be home base. He’s not ever leaving that hotel. It’s hisbaby. We’ll call and leave messages through him for one another. Try toschedule a meet up as soon as possible. He’ll do it. All wehavetodo is tell him we’ll kick him down an extra twenty when we see him.”She nudged my shoulder smiling. “We’re going to be rich, remember? Rich peoplehave means.”

“I’m still worried,” I admitted.

“It will be okay. Just you wait and see,” she promised rightbefore her name was called.

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