_OceanofPDF

“You look tired.” She lifted her arm to the side, then the front. “The
back feels good. Fits like a Papillion.”
I didn’t address her comment about how I looked. She didn’t need to
know I’d spent half the night in a crystal-encrusted abandoned building.
“That’s my name,” I said. “Wear it out.”
Olivia smiled when I quoted my father. Basile Papillion didn’t have a
sense of humor as much as a charming way with puns.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the party?” Olivia said as I
unzipped her dress. “I can get you an invitation, you know.”
“Nah, I don’t have anything to wear,” I half-joked. I didn’t have
anything to wear, but I didn’t feel the urge to go either. Small talk gave me
hives.
“You’re surrounded by gowns,” Olivia said from behind the dressing
room curtain.
“They’re all spoken for.”
“Ella!” Bianca cried from the other side of the outer door, adding a
quick knock. “Ute Wente’s waiting.”
I opened the door. My stepmother waited on the other side with her
arms crossed as if my problem was laziness and she’d caught me slacking
again.
Laziness wasn’t my problem. She was.
“Just finishing up with the Monroe gown.”
“Done!” Olivia said, coming out from behind the curtain, fully dressed.
“Oh,” Bianca said, stopping in her tracks. “Mrs. Crowne! It’s so nice to
see you.”
“Monroe,” she corrected with a smile. “My mother’s name.”
My stepmother’s skull-short black hair hugged her head like a
swimming cap, but she’d managed to tuck a Swarovski crystal comb behind
her ear. Her skin was soft leather, consistently winter-tanned as if she’d just
jetted back from a vacation in St. Croix.
“Of course,” Bianca singsonged with a kind smile, banishing the horror
of anyone not taking the Crowne name as she turned her glare to me. “We
have Theresa and Fiona Drazen both waiting forty minutes for your
attention. And Ute, of course.” She turned back to Olivia, still smiling. “I
hate to rush you, but we’re in such a crunch over your celebration.” She
pressed her palm to her chest and bowed ever so slightly as if she was