Page 34 of Prelude To You

“All we need is to find you the perfect outfit.”

I piped the last éclair, dipped it in glaze and set it alongside the others. If these éclairs didn’t win over the crew at the mansion, nothing would.

Meg’s phone dinged and she checked a text. “My dad says the pizza will be here in fifteen,” she said excitedly.

“I thought your dad refused to deliver to us anymore because you abused the privilege?”

Meg texted back. “I explained everything to him.”

“Oh great, that’s not embarrassing at all.”

Meg pinched my cheek with a mischievous smile. “Relax, I’ll open some wine to take off the edge.

“Megan,” I said sternly, using her full name for emphasis. “I thought you were going out?”

“I’m canceling my plans. No way am I leaving now. I’m not letting you down.”

“Letting me down? You’re beginning to scare me now.”

Meg squeezed my cheeks with her hands. “Listen to me and listen to me carefully, Isabel. There’s a reason that damn card was left behind.”

“Oh God, I beg of you. Please don’t start with that again.”

“I mean, who needs a crystal ball when it’s all clear as day.” She burrowed through the fridge. After much clattering and shoving things around, she found a stray bottle of cheap wine, poured us half a glass each, and pushed one into my hands.

“The thing with Destiny is tough,” she continued. “You can’t trick it, you can’t trade it and you can’t escape it if you try. And you my sweet friend are staring Destiny in the face.”

“Destiny my ass,” I countered bluntly, chugging wine. “If it was Destiny I wouldn’t have to track him down pretending it was Destiny.”

The mere thought of seeing him again ignited a flame inside me. There was something severely lacking in my life if a total stranger had this kind of effect on me. On the other hand, what ifMeg was right? What if this was my chance to thank him for the book at least?

Not that thanking him for the book was the only reason I wanted to see him again, but I refused to acknowledge that out loud. The wine Meg forced me to drink was warming me up to her crazy idea about going to the auction.

When the pizza arrived, I was only allowed one slice. Meg literally swiped the second from my hand before I could bite into it.

“What the hell, Meg?”

“We don’t want you bloated,” she explained. “Not that you could ever get bloated, but this is your future we’re talking about. Besides this has tons of garlic on it.”

What with the wine and only one slice of pizza, I was begrudgingly sucked into the scenario Meg had created. One by one my reservations were obliterated. “I suppose I could thank him for the book,” I offered faintly.

“There you go,” Meg prompted. “What kind of unthankful monster would you be if you didn’t.”

“But what if he’s not there? Oh God, what if heisthere?”

Meg paced the cramped living room. “Well if he isn’t there then that would suck harder than a black hole,” she said. “But I have a gut feeling he will be. Call it a premonition. What’s important is that you take the chance. If it doesn’t work out, you never see him again. At least you gave it your all. What have you got to lose!?”

I covered my face with my hands, tremors of anticipation snaking their way up my back. “What have I got to lose!? I don’t know, Meg… My pride, my dignity, my self-respect. What the hell do I even wear!?”

Meg saw my resistance weaken significantly and rushed to swoop in and clinch the deal. She topped up my wine glass and dragged me to her messy bedroom. Where she threw open thecloset doors as if unveiling the latest collection at Paris Fashion Week.

“One thing I know for sure,” she announced. “It’s safer to dress up rather than down… I mean seeing that it’s the goddamn Belmont Hotel.”

I lounged on Meg’s unmade bed, sipping wine and watching her navigate the chaos that was her closet. She nimbly selected, pondered, and tossed clothes in different piles.

“I’m the first one to admit I’m not exactly the world’s most sophisticated dresser,” she allowed. “But I’ve got some bitchin’ outfits here. Like this, look here! Can’t go wrong with blue, and satin’s always in.”

She held up a slinky blue dress that had a blinding sheen to it. It made me cringe. How was I going to tell Meg that from what I knew of Stranger, one thing was pretty clear, the man wore his class from head to toe, and a shimmering dress might not be the best way to go.

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