“We can do a costume. Darla and I still have half a week before we leave for Virginia, and Romi must have some fancy shoes. What size are your feet?”
“Uh, a seven.”
“Romi’s an eight, but we can pad the toes.”
Romi got on board with the idea, unfortunately. “I have plenty of samples, and sometimes designers send the wrong sizes. I can definitely find shoes.”
“Brie might have a dress?” Brooke suggested. “She had to rent a whole other room for the overflow from her closet.”
“I can’t wear one of Brie’s dresses,” I protested.
“Why not? You’re about the same size.”
“Because…because…”
Because Brie was an actual freaking princess. Somehow, she’d landed up in Baldwin’s Shore and fallen in love with a guy I went to school with. When Brie wasn’t attending to her royal duties in Scandinavia, she lived with Colt and his daughter in the Royal Suite at the Peninsula while they waited for construction work on their dream home to finish. The two of them had bought the old paper mill on the outskirts of town, and judging by the number of trucks that drove in and out, they were building a whole new palace. Brie and Colt’s happy ending was proof that fairy tales really did come true.
“Then that’s settled,” Paulo announced. “We’ll take care of the costume, and you can go watch Kayleigh and Lillian fall flat on their ugly faces. I bet they’ll give you your job back within a month. No way can they manage without you.”
“But would you want to work with them again?” Brooke asked.
“I…I don’t know,” I said honestly.
In truth, I was still shocked that they’d fired me. But I also understood why they’d done it, and it wasn’t just about the fact that they wanted us to offer a wedding planning service and I hated dealing with bridezillas. No, the problems went back further, all the way to our grandpa’s death. To the day his will had been read. To the conditions he’d set for inheritance.
Aaron spoke up. “If you return to your old job, you should put safeguards in place. Ask for stock options or negotiate a golden parachute.”
“I’m not sure they’d agree to that.”
“Then you could start your own business. You have the contacts.”
That was true, but I still didn’t have the capital. Not enough to start from scratch. The three of us had agreed to reinvest most of the profits to grow the business with a view to selling before Grandpa’s deadline. Now if there was anything left of the company in two years, Kayleigh and Lillian would get every last cent. And I’d tried to safeguard myself, Ihad. I’d made my cousins sign an agreement to say that as long as LKB met certain financial targets, I’d receive a hefty bonus in the final year before the target date; I’d just never dreamed that they’d terminate my employment before the bonus clause kicked in. What a freaking mess. I should have known they’d screw me over. Treachery was coded into their DNA.
“I need a few days to think things through.”
“That’s a sensible—”
“But you’re going to the ball, right?” Paulo interrupted.
“I’m still not sure that’s a good idea.”
Darla took a sip of her nojito. “A little schadenfreude can be a wonderful thing, hun.”
“Almost as delicious as this margarita,” Addy said. “Hey, it’s time for my class. Just promise you’ll go to the party.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll go. But I have to leave by midnight.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s when everyone takes their masks off.”
I’d designed the invitations myself, thick navy-blue card stock withMasks Off at Midnightembossed on the front in gold. I’d need to get the heck out of there before the big reveal.
“This is gonna be great. Can you take photos of the terrible twins doing manual labour? Like, maybe serving drinks or something? Or valet parking cars?”
I was regretting my decision already.
“I’m not going to draw any attention to myself.”