Page 8 of If The Shoe Fits

"Fair."

Cassie and Carter had purchased an elegant townhouse in the Upper East Side, right off Fifth avenue. Well, they called it a townhouse. Helene called it a mansion. They could see the park from the west facing windows, but their entrance was on 69th Street. Cassie said she liked it that way—there was less traffic driving right in front of her doors every day. Helene still had nightmares about the time when she'd asked the price tag of the property. She wasn't even certain how to write the number—she'd never had any reason to write down so many zeros. The formal entry was larger than Helene's old flat. Farther into the house, at the rear, there was a great hall generally shut off, but today it was blazing with light when they walked down the curved staircase.

"How many people have you invited?" Helene whispered to her sister, spotting dozens of people, and hearing far more from other parts of the house.The entryway and hall didn't even seem all that busy; they were large enough to comfortably entertain a crowd twice as large.

"I'm not sure. About two hundred, I think?"

Two hundred people. It would have been a struggle to fit a dozen people in her old apartment.

They might have been sisters, only four years apart, but Cassie and Helene inhabited different stratospheres. Reaching the bottom of the staircase, Helen caught a glimpse of the two of them in a gilded mirror. Cassie was wearing a bloodred gown with a folded sweetheart neckline, gathered at the waist and falling into a full skirt, like a princess. It might just be pretend, but for one night, at least, they looked like sisters again, although it was just an illusion.

"Cassandra!" An older woman converged toward them, taking both of Cassie's hands in hers. "What a marvelous reception. You simply must tell me who did the canapes, dear."

"Why, thank you, Mrs. Nash. We used the caterer you recommended. They're a delight."

Helene blinked in surprise. She barely recognized her sister's voice, or her studied smile. More women approached, to praise one thing or another, and Cassie received them like they were all long-lost friends, addressing them all by name, though they all seemed twice her age. They'd aged nicely, though. Nicole Kidman would have fit in perfectly with this crowd. Come to think of it, the ethereal redhead on the other side of the room might very well be the actress.

Slowly, they moved to the hall. Helene followed, mesmerized by the girl who wasn't quite her sister anymore. Servers offered her flutes of champagne. She snatched one up, and sipped at it as she watched the show, frowning.

Something bothered her in this picture. Cassie didn't seem…real. Or happy. She didn't want her sister to turn into a Stepford wife.

"Tedious, right?"

Helene's head turned to a voice she recognized. She laughed, embracing Lara Harris, Carter's mother. The woman hugged her back, tight. The tall brunette was wearing black dress pants, a silk blouse paired with a diamond necklace, and her natural elegance made her stand out more than any of the blonde carbon copies crowding Cassie.

"And then some. I can't believe you're here. You're too cool for functions like these."

Lara laughed. "Ain't that the truth, sugar. I had to come to show my support. The harpies won't ever leave Cassie alone unless they have another Harris to latch on to." She waved at one of the ladies around Cassie, and immediately, the woman rushed toward them. "This is Anne Lowerlly, formerly Payton, formerly Towell, now sleeping with Daniel Croft," she whispered, before the woman reached her. "Anne! Have you met Helene?"

The blonde lady looked her up and down, assessing everything from her shoes to her dress, then managed a brief smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Charmed. And you are?"

"She's Cassie's sister, dear. Helene's family."

Anne's surprise didn't come as a shock. Cassie was naturally blonde, like their dad, and Helene had inherited their mother's dark waves. That said, they had the same green eyes and pert nose. Helene's mouth was wider and fuller than Cassie’s. Overall, side by side, they did look like family, but their resemblance wasn't obvious.

"Wonderful. And what do you do, dear?"

Helene didn't know why she didn't want to answer. She wasn't ashamed of her job. She liked it. Right?

After a second passed, Lara said, "She works in cosmetics. Helene's a magician. She found me a cream that got rid of my laugh lines in no time. Her brand's exclusive—they usually work directly with Hollywood or catwalk shows—but she makes sure to supply what I need."

Damn. While Lara's description was entirely accurate, Helene wouldn't have managed to make her job sound nearly as glamorous. With renewed interest, Anne engaged her in a conversation about skin complexions and the evil of sunburns. That, she could manage. Other ladies joined them, and after a while, Helene had to admit that this wasn't so hard. There were about a million places where she would have preferred to be, but while it wasn't interesting or enjoyable, these women certainly knew how to engage in shallow conversations.

She observed the benefit. All the women wore dresses worth as much as a price of a brand-new car, and their husbands were either extremely beautiful, or extremely rich. She spotted some of Cassie's friends she knew and liked—Anna, Tessa, Tori, and Amy—but they all seemed pinned to their corner of the room by several well-intentioned women. An hour must have passed before she managed to excuse herself. "I'd better see if my sister needs me."

Cassie had snuck away from her posse. Helene found her rushing to the other end of the hall. "Oh, good, you're here." Cassie grabbed her hands. "We'd better start the auctions, or we'll never get anything done. Have you seen Amy?"

"She was with Tori and Bryant Parker a minute ago."

Cassie twisted on her heels till she spotted the beautiful black woman. She waved her hand, catching her attention. Amy joined them after battling through the crowd. "Is it time for the torture?" she grumbled.

Oh, she must have volunteered for the stupid dance auction, too.

"We were supposed to start at seven, and it's already half past. If we want them out of here by midnight, we have to get going," Cassie whispered. "Where's Carter?"

Her husband appeared on cue, sliding behind her. "I see you managed to get away from the flock."

"Barely. Is everything ready? Can we get the auction started?"

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