Page 3 of Velvet Cruelty

“Sometimes! He’s intimidating, I guess.”

“Bullshit. It’s because your nanny calls him ‘Mr. Parker.’”

My body temperature ticks up a notch. “Margot, for the millionth time, Zia Teresa isn’t my nanny.”

“No, she’s mom’s housekeeper.”

I look over my shoulder. Mentioning mom always makes me feel like she’s going to show up and scream at someone. Probably me. But the room is as friendly and mom-free as ever. “Zia Teresa is my friend,” I tell Margot. “And she’s yours too. Do you remember how she helped out when you threw up on mom’s chintz lounge?”

Margot clicks her fingers at her makeup artist, Helen. “Hi? Yeah, can you bring me more champagne?”

Helen purses her lips, but she puts down her eyelash curler and leaves. I wince. It isn’t like Margot to be rude, but she’s scared, and I have no idea how to help her. If Zia was here, she’d know how to calm Margot down. She knows how to do everything. I wanted her to come to the wedding, but mom refused. “What would people think, having a servant at a formal celebration?”

But Zia—Auntie—Teresa isn’t just a servant. She was my father’s housekeeper when he was young and when my real mom died giving birth to me, Zia Teresa bottle-fed me and read me stories, and sang to me in Italian. She’s tiny, less than five feet tall with a beautiful, wrinkled apple face and the sharpest, funniest tongue in the world. She smells like DNKY’s Be Delicious and Pond cream and Newport menthols, even though I always ask her to stop smoking. For her not to be here today… It’s just wrong.

Anita pats my shoulder. “Okay, baby girl, almost done. We just need setting spray.”

I close my eyes and Anita blasts me with so much wet mist, I’m surprised I’m not dripping. I imagine being sealed in a cocoon, a clear plastic barrier so that when Mr. Parker kisses me at the altar, he won’t really be kissing me. But when I open my eyes, I’m not in a cocoon. I’m just me, but shiny.

Beside me, Margot sips her fresh glass of champagne, her face gleaming with the same setting spray. She looks fierce and gorgeous. I reach out and touch her arm. “You look beautiful, M. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Margot sighs. “I wish daddy were here. If he were, this wouldn’t be happening.”

I fight to keep the smile on my face. “I wish daddy were here too, but I’m happy to be marrying Mr. Parker.”

“You have no fucking clue. This isn’t fair.”

I return my gaze to my mirror. “Margot, when Zia Teresa was fourteen, her dad pulled her out of school and sent her to work for our grandma. He took three-quarters of her paycheck until she got married and then her husband took her whole paycheck.”

“So?”

I straighten in my makeup chair. “So, I’m sorry today is hard for you but I have to get married.”

“God, January… whatever.” Margot fumbles with her purse and pulls out her neon green vape. Mom would go crazy if she knew Margot vaped but if there’s something risky that she hasn’t specifically banned, Margot wants to do it. As she blows out a dragon-like puff of smoke, Fabrizia from Abbagliante Bridal glides through the door in a silver power suit. “Good afternoon, ladies! Prepare to be amazed!”

A team of assistants carries in dresses, each carefully sealed in opaque protectors.

Giuseppina squeals. “Oh my God, it’s time! January’s getting married!”

It takes five assistants to bring in my wedding gown. One on each corner and an extra at the end. I have no idea how much the dress costs, but from the assistants’ terrified expressions, a lot.

“Up, January,” Fabrizia calls. “To the dressing area.”

She ushers me behind a small curtain where I take off my satin robe. Mr. Parker chose my wedding lingerie and two days ago, I was taken to a salon where every hair below my neck was waxed away. I’m still getting used to the bareness, but it does make the underwear, a short white corset and skimpy panties, look nicer. I try to imagine Mr. Parker seeing me half naked like this and my stomach turns over.

One of Fabrizia’s assistants lifts a pair of kitten heels from a shoe box and hands them to me. I slide the patent leather onto my feet and grow an inch taller. Originally, Fabrizia wanted me in high heels, but mom freaked. “Do you want my daughter to tower over her fiancé?”

My dress is hung on a wooden frame beside me, and the assistants stand around it whispering nervously like it might come to life and run away. Fabrizia unzips the opaque sleeve and I see a stretch of white lace and pearls. My stomach contracts. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Hmm.” Fabrizia stares at me in the mirror. “So, the princess is still marrying the goblin?”

Unlike everyone else, Fabrizia doesn’t hide her disapproval of Mr. Parker. Probably because she’s even scarier than my mom.

“I’m very excited to get married.”

Fabrizia makes a ‘pffeew’ noise. “Dutiful, bella, but you’ll need to give a better performance in bed tonight.”

My cheeks burn under all Anita’s makeup. I know there’s a chance I might not be a virgin tomorrow, but I’ve never even been kissed before. Surely Mr. Parker won’t take things that far. Maybe we’ll get to the bridal suite at the Ritz Carlton and just talk and hold hands?

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