Page 61 of Salem's Fall
“You two are ridiculous.”
As I finish loading the dishwasher, a sharp knock echoes through the apartment. Maddie and I exchange a look.
“Expecting visitors? Another rager?” I tease, wiping my hands on a dish towel.
“No,” she says, then smiles broadly. “Not until tonight, at least.”
“Ha ha. You better be kidding.”
I open the door to find three impeccably dressed people standing in the hallway. Two women, one man. All sleek, fashionable, and exuding effortless style.
The woman in front with cobalt blue hair in sleek waves beams at me like she’s found her next great project. In her hand, she holds a garment bag marked Dolce & Gabbana. Beside her, another woman stands with the most gorgeous earrings I’ve ever seen—delicate resin pieces encasing real pressed flowers. She cradles a massive box of Christian Louboutin shoes like it’s the holy grail and surveys me with quiet amusement. The man, who looks like he just walked out of a Milan runway show, is balancing two enormous rolling makeup cases.
“Good evening, Ms. Woodsen. We’re your glam team.” The woman with blue hair steps forward and flashes me a bright, excited smile. “We’re here to get Cinderella ready for the ball.”
Maddie, still in her pajamas, looks between them and me.
“A ball?My sister?” she asks. “Let me tell you, you have your work cut out for you.”
Then she bursts out laughing.
Two hours later, after the glam team has worked their fairy godmother magic, I glance at myself in the mirror and barely recognize the woman staring back at me. The dress Damien chose for me is a masterpiece. Soft, ethereal ice-blue chiffon, delicate as air, like something out of a dream. A structured bodice that cinches perfectly at my waist and a neckline just daring enough to make me feel dangerous. It hugs my curves before flowing down in soft, weightless waves at my feet.
And the shoes…
Swarovski-covered designer heels shimmer on my feet, so dazzling, they look like they’re dipped in liquid diamonds. I shift, and my heels catch the light, sending tiny rainbows scattering across the floor.
But it’s not just my outfit. My hair and makeup… I’ve never seen myself like this before.
Brushed gold strands, styled in soft, elegant waves, cascade over my shoulders. And my makeup is completely different from how I normally wear it. It’s far more glamorous. Black kohl liner and fake lashes paired with a sexy, deep, wine-stained red. I don’t even look like me.
Maddie squeals, clutching at her chest like she’s about to faint.
“James, you—” She shakes her head, her eyes wide with awe. “Oh my gawd! I thought they were kidding at first, but you really do look like Cinderella.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, half disbelief, half nerves. “Yeah, well, let’s hope this Cinderella doesn’t lose her damn shoe—because there’s no way I can afford to replace whatever these cost,” I say, wiggling my toes inside the glittering heels.
“No, but seriously, you are stunning. Like, I think I might cry.”
Maddie circles me and blinks hard, her eyes suddenly glassy. Her voice drops to a whisper. “You look like Mom, Jamie,” she says. “She would’ve loved to see this…”
A lump forms in my throat as I think about how much Mom used to love getting us ready for things like this. School dances. Birthday parties. Even silly dress-up days at school. She’d insist on doing our hair, fussing over us, making us twirl around the living room so she could admire her work. Our mom never got to see either of us go to our senior prom or graduation. She never got to see us grow up.
“Oh, Mads,” I whisper and put an arm around her, pulling her in tight. I press a kiss against the top of her messy ponytail. “Thanks, kiddo.”
I glance at my reflection one last time, a strange mix of pride and disbelief stirring in my chest. The dress. The shoes. Damien’s black tourmaline ring on my finger. These are easily the most beautiful things I’ve ever worn, and it’s all thanks to him. Even if tonight is a complete bust, I’m grateful for this moment with Maddie.
“Thank you so much,” I say as the glam team gathers up their things. “I love it all.”
“Enjoy your night, princess.” The woman with cobalt blue hair winks back at me.
A knock sounds at the door, and I open it to find Bennett standing there, ever-patient, hands clasped in front of him.
“Miss Woodsen, Mr. Blackhollow is waiting for you at the Gala.” He steps aside, holding the door open. “Shall we?”
I frown. “He’s not picking me up?”
Not that I have a lot of experience at this whole fancy gala thing, but it seems a bit rude to send your chauffeur to pick up your date.
