Chapter 29
The Ashford Family Cordially invites You
Dearest Miss April and Miss Pine Farrah,
It is our pleasure to invite you to a Grand Ball hosted at the Ashford Estate, an occasion to celebrate the distinguished company of our esteemed guests and contestants…
The next day, along with the rest of the contestants, I read and reread the invitation over and over again, gratefully noting that June is invited too, which is a relief because no way in hell am I leaving her behind ever again.
Did they know that? I wonder. Is that why they invited her too? Is this some roundabout way of trying to make up for last night?
Did Nathan have anything to do with this?
Or I could be wrong, and this is just another clever publicity stunt.
“Dramatic much,” Eliza mumbles, turning her own fancy embossed invitation over in her hands.
“I assume you all have read and understand the invitations you’ve been given,” Easton says, stepping up on stage.
“I’ve emphasized that everything you do in this competition is important–but your attendance at this ball, your appearance, and your overall behavior is inarguably the most important yet.”
I didn’t think there would be anything more stressful than yesterday, but here I stand, thoroughly corrected.
“First of all, we will double down on your dance lessons, teaching you a variety of specially curated and choreographed dances you will be expected to perform flawlessly at the event. As for your attire, the invitation states formal evening wear and a guideline frame–in reality, you are completely in charge of your attire for that evening.”
My ears perk up at that, my interest suddenly piqued. “Working with an assigned team of tailors, you will each design your own outfits for that night. You’re allowed to design however you want, and you’re encouraged to showcase your personality and creativity through your attire.”
His words set my heart pounding, a familiar giddy feeling I haven’t felt in a long time spreading through me. When I was younger, and my biggest problem was trying to figure out which outfits would draw Nathan’s attention (spoiler: none of them did), my favorite thing to do was doodle random designs in my notebooks.
Then, my parents died, and we could barely afford three square meals coupled with June’s medication. My little sister was still growing and needed new clothes often. So I’d take the scraps of her old clothes and make new ones for her out of them–first by hand with a needle and thread and then with a used sewing machine I bought cheap at a garage sale.
In another world, in another life where I didn’t have a sick, dependent sister or the need to constantly work for money, I’d be a fashion designer.
I study Biomedical Science because I’m book smart, and it’s one of the fastest growing industries, so I’ll get a good job easily. Plus, I have this foolish notion of helping to cure diabetes–or at least doing research to help make my sister’s life easier.
But if I didn’t have to do that, I would study fashion. It’s my deepest, most unrealistic dream–to move to New York and study in the Fashion Institute of Technology, to become an independent designer, and open my own fashion studio.
But it’s a pipe dream–up there in the sky, along with marrying an Ashford.
But this chance to design my dress for the ball… It’s the closest I might ever get to my dream, and I’m almost dizzy with excitement and anticipation.
Later, in the drawing room where we’re being measured, when I tell the tailor that I want to make mine and June’s dresses, she looks scandalized.
*Please?” I ask, biting my lip. “It would mean the world to me.”
“Um, miss, I don’t think-”
“I’ll take responsibility,” I say, hoping it won’t turn out to be a big deal for the Ashfords.
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12:42 PM P
Chapter 29
And that’s how, an hour later, I find myself staring euphorically at the sewing machine and workbench arranged against the wall in my room.
With June out with Eliza, my friend promising not to let my sister out of her sight or eat anything suspicious, I’m alone with the beautiful machine, my mind whirling wildly with all the designs I could bring to life.
I take a seat at the workbench, and as I do, an image flashes in my mind–of Nathan, wincing in pain as he stood yesterday.
A small smile spreads on my face. All I could say yesterday was thank you, but now I can do something to express my gratitude. And what better way to christen my new sewing machine than to make something for Nathan?
The next two days fly by in a flurry of activity. Between dance classes and etiquette lessons, I spend every waking moment in my room, my hands working tirelessly at my sewing machine.
I’ve never made anything like this before, and I make tons of mistakes. I have to start again, and I spend hours in the computer room poring over YouTube videos. I barely feel the little pinpricks of the needle or the hand cramps.
And then, finally, I finish the last stitch on the knee brace.
My fingers caress the soft velvet cover and the initials, ‘N.A‘ hand–embroidered in green, Nathan’s favorite color (thank you, June).
Without giving myself time to doubt the quality of the gift or talk myself out of giving it to him, I rush out of my room, noting that we have dinner in an hour and we’re dining with the Ashfords again.
I want to give it to him before that.
Rushing out of my room, I almost slam into a maid.
“Whoa!” I catch myself just in time.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasps, her eyes wide.
I shake my head. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I was in a rush.”
“Is there anything you need?” she asks politely. I recognize her as one of Valerie’s maids–Claire, I think.
“I was just looking for Na Master Nathan, or maybe Isaac if he’s around.”
“Oh? May I ask why?”
1 gesture to the knee brace sheepishly. “I want to give him this.”
She glances at it and smiles softly. “That’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
She stretches her hand out. “I can have it delivered for you.”
I hesitate. “I don’t think-”
From the corner of my eye, I see Eliza and June approaching the room with the stylist teams behind them to help us get ready for dinner.
I sigh, realizing I don’t have much of a choice. “Okay.” I reluctantly hand the brace to her. “Please make sure he gets it–from April.”
She smiles. “I will.”
Then she turns and walks down the hall, a slight spring in her step.
Before I wonder if I made the right decision or should’ve just held on to it till I could give Nathan myself, I’m swept under the wave of stylists, makeup, and dresses.
I console myself with the fact that I’ll see him during dinner. My body hums with nervous anticipation.
