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Chapter One
Elle
“This is insane. Nope. Not gonna happen. No way this will work.”
I shook my head, tumbling a few strands from the upsweep holding back my thick black hair from my face. I turned left and then right in front of the large stand mirror propped in the middle of my best friend’s bedroom. I looked like, uh, like… okay I didn’t look as bad as I feared. Maybe I could pass for high society if the lights were dimmed and no one looked directly at me.
I did a few more turns and stared at myself from all angles. The girl who stared back seemed barely recognizable from head to toe. My hair twisted around the top of my head in a creation Madeline called a faux crown complete with tiny pins with sparkly jewels on the tips. And my feet were crammed into a pair of stilettos I would never opt into wearing willingly.
And my make up? Eat your heart out.
Maddy’s diamond stud earrings glistened in the bedroom light and if I moved just right, the shimmering colors radiated from each facet. Paired with a black dress that barely covered my ass and heels so high my legs looked killer, I was the female version of the Pink star diamond. I guess, taking a step back, for all intents and purposes, I did look like a real princess.
But it was all a lie. “I’m a nobody,” I say quietly, instantly deflated. I huffed, obviously still too hurt to see far beyond what my ex-boyfriend painted me as—a mediocre nobody.
“Don’t you dare cry and mess up my masterpiece.”
I raised my eyes from the floor to pin Maddy’s through the reflection of the mirror.
“And nobody, my ass. You’re Elle Morgan. The kick-ass chick who proves everyday girls like us are the real beauties of the world. Not the ones on TV with all their fancy makeup artists standing over their shoulders. Now stop pouting or that frown crease between your brows will stick like that.”
“Okay,Mom,” I drew out, pursing my lips, trying to lighten the mood a little for both our sakes.
My eyes drifted from my deep cleavage to my childhood friend. “This just isn’t me, Maddy.” I took in the strappy black number clinging to every groove and curve on my body. My normal wardrobe entailed a waitress outfit Friday to Sunday and every other day of the week required office casual with basic black pumps.
“All the more reason you need this, don’tcha think? Get out of your routine of work, home, binge read, and bed for Christ’s sake, girl. Live a little. Besides, you already bought the tickets. It would be a huge waste to see them not used. Do you wanna let him win? Hell no!” she answered before I could.
When Maddy started, letting her finish was the only way through.
“All that crap he spouted… he’s lucky I wasn’t there. He would have eaten lunch through you know where if I’d heard what he had to say.”
I smiled at my friend. She meant well and I believed she’d deliver on her promise.
My ex. Just thinking about him made my stomach hurt. The nasty words the flaming asshole drilled into me the day he called it off hurt deeply. I had cooked a great meal for our date night, planned on telling him my birthday surprise and then hoped for a little pre-birthday celebration and finally solidify our relationship. It would have been our first night together.
But, when Michael arrived, he didn’t bother coming in. That would have been too humane for him. Oh no, he dumped me standing on my doorstep a week ago for not being spontaneous or spunky enough. Not like all the other fabulous women he gave the pleasure of dating him. His words, hand to God. We only dated for three months, but from day one I wanted what Maddy had with her fiancé, so I mentally painted over his flaws and only saw the good. Which, looking back, wasn’t much of anything.
Renewed irritation flamed through me. Ironic how he considered me bland really when I had a wild night of all the spontaneous adventure either of us could handle lined up for his birthday, which happened to be tonight.
He didn’t want to hear what I had planned. Didn’t want to give me—or us—a chance. So now I had two expensive tickets to an exclusive club all of high society couldn’t stop gossiping about—II. Odd name if you asked me, but if you wanted to rub elbows with big names that was the place. Being seen in a place like that also landed more than one person in the spotlight for movie and sports agents looking for the next talent.
I didn’t care about any of that. I only wanted someone who saw me for me. Guess that was off the table.
I stared at the tickets tossed among the clutter of concealer tubes and powder brushes. The two slips of white paper lay alongside a shade of red lipstick labeledSlaying Diva. Now that made me laugh.
Maddy fluttered around and brushed, poked, and fluffed until I couldn't stand still any longer.
“Okay, you win if you’ll just stop fretting over me.” I batted her hand away from tweaking the cat-eye stroke of liner giving my hazel eyes a dramatic edge.
Maddy flashed a triumphant smile.
“I’ll go, have a couple of drinks, and then you can’t say I never tried. Then I can come home, return to my comfortableboringlife and be done with all this.”
Maddy sighed, a hip against the vanity. “You don’t get it, babe, do you?”
Puzzled, I swept a lock of twisted hair to the side and tried not to wipe at the amount of lipstick she patted on my lips. “Get what?” I murmured between pats of the brush.
“Michael is the asshole. There’s nothing boring about you at all. You just failed to drop to your knees and worship the fucktard like he wanted. That’s all. You’re beautiful, smart, and when the right man finds you, he’ll be just as blown away by your beauty, inside and out, as the rest of the world is.”
