Page 117 of Diamond Angel

I look down and catch my knee jerking up and down like an engine piston. I stop abruptly. When I look back at Cee, she’s got her accusing eyebrow aimed at me.

“Okay, I don’t love the dress,” I admit. “Pretty, but—"

“Too much?”

“Not right for your complexion.”

She nods with a growing smile. “See? Was that so hard?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Shit, Tay. How fragile do you think I am?” she asks. “I can take the truth, even if it hurts.”

That one feels like a gut punch, but I just sit there with a fake smile plastered across my face, trying to keep my thoughts from spilling into dangerous territory.

Instead of going for the next dress, Cele walks over and sits down next to me. “They went to get the champagne, huh?”

“Is this standard procedure in this place?”

“For what I spend here, yes.” She laughs. “It’s surprising how quickly you get used to it.”

“Well, it suits you. That’s a compliment,” I rush to add when I see her starting to frown. I clear my throat, wondering how else I can insult my sister at our very first stop of the day. “So…will Ashton be at the ball?”

Her nose wrinkles up and she becomes inexplicably interested in the soles of her heels. “Of course,” she mumbles without looking at me. “He’s helping me coordinate, after all.”

“Ah, right, of course. You two work well together.”

Her eyes snap to mine and her jaw clenches. “Taylor. Seriously.”

“What?” I ask innocently. “Just interested in your life.”

“In my life?” she asks. “Or my relationship with Ashton?”

“A little of both, maybe.”

She starts tapping her index finger against the buttery-white arm of the sofa. “I don’t want to talk about it. I would have thought that was obvious by now.”

“You’ve substituted happiness with diamonds and balls and fancy dresses. You realize that, don’t you?” Her eyes tighten instantly. I’m terrified that I’ve already alienated her. But I’m even more terrified that I’ll alienate her if I don’t ask the questions that need to be asked. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I need to understand what’s going on with you.”

My eyes land on her hands, on the thin scar that winds its way across her slim wrists. She turns them over immediately.

“Who told you?” she whispers.

“Ilarion.”

She frowns. “That was not his story to tell.”

“I made him. I can be very stubborn when I want to. Like now, for instance.”

She sighs, her eyes betraying all the secrets she’s been holding close to her chest. “Well—"

She stops short when she notices Genesis arrive at the landing with a tray of mocktails and macarons. “We’ll take it from here, Genesis,” she says without batting an eyelid. “It’s time I have a talk with my sister.”

47

TAYLOR

I squirm in place and offer up a silent prayer for no tears. I know I’m the one who asked, but now that she’s willing to share, I’m wondering if it was the right move after all. The tears might end up being mine.

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