Page 98 of American Royals
“Yes,” Lindsay insisted. She spoke the words crisply, with a sort of relish, as if she felt vindicated by this proof. “It’s logged right here—you called later that afternoon to cancel. You said you’d found something else that you liked more.”
“That wasn’t me,” Nina burst out. “I don’t know who that was, but you must have mixed up the names, confused me with another customer. I didn’t cancel this order.”
Lindsay gave a sigh that clearly indicated this wasn’t her problem. “We refunded your credit card, since we hadn’t begun the alterations,” she offered, as if Nina should be thrilled to have her money back.
Nina’s heart thudded frantically in her chest. “The engagement party is tomorrow. I’m supposed to be there, at the ball, with Jeff!”
“I wasn’t aware that you were attending with His Highness,” Lindsay replied. Presumably this was to remind Nina that, as a commoner, she should have referred to Jeff by his proper rank.
“Where is the gown? I’ll take it somewhere else for the alterations ….” Nina swallowed. She sounded borderline hysterical.
“I’m afraid someone purchased that gown a few days ago,” Lindsay said, and Nina noticed that she was no longer pretending not to know which gown Nina meant. “Of course, you’re welcome to browse the racks to see what’s still available. Though I’m afraid most things left won’t be your size. It’s been a busy few days.”
“What’s going on out here?” A man with gray hair and wire-framed glasses stepped out from the back room. His eyes traveled over Nina with evident distaste. “Is there a problem?”
That was when Nina realized what was going on.
These people were trying to get rid of her. They knew precisely who she was, and didn’t approve of her—her background or her style or the way she’d supposedly “stolen” Jeff. These were the people leaving all those ugly comments online.
A few stray shoppers glanced over, curious about the drama that was unfolding before them.
Nina had never in her life cried over clothes, yet now she felt wildly close to tears. She forced herself to swallow them back. Making a scene would only result in more unflattering coverage, alongside pictures of her looking flushed and angry.
How was she supposed to get a black-tie gown by tomorrow evening? For every other function like this, Nina had just borrowed something from Samantha, but she couldn’t very well ask Samantha now ….
Her shoulders slumped. She remembered what Sam had said when she came over to Nina’s dorm room and they got into that awful fight. You’re like a sister to me.
She’d been so focused on all those memories of Samantha being thoughtless or selfish—but now another memory rose to Nina’s mind. Of the time she’d gotten that awful bowl cut, the one Jeff had mentioned at Wawa. The girls at her school had teased her mercilessly for it.
When Nina told Sam what had happened—and that she was stuck with the haircut for months, until it grew out—Sam had found a pair of scissors and given herself a bowl cut, too, in solidarity. And of course, because she was the princess, she somehow managed to make it fashionable—turning Nina into a trendsetter, and saving her from fifth-grade social ostracism.
Nina had accused Sam of taking her for granted, but it struck Nina that maybe she’d taken Sam for granted, too. They had been friends for so long that she’d come to view their friendship as a permanent thing, as immutable and reliable as the stone of the Georgian Monument.
Nina cringed as she recalled some of the things she’d told her friend. Well, she was going to see Samantha at the ball tomorrow anyway; she might as well get a day’s head start. Nina needed to ask for Sam’s help.
And her forgiveness.
SAMANTHA
Samantha was sitting cross-legged on her couch, idly reading an article on her laptop, when she heard a familiar one-two-three knock.
She shoved the computer aside, certain she’d misheard, or that one of the footmen had heard her use this knock and was trying to mess with her. But when she opened the door, Nina was standing there.
Sam wished she could throw her arms around her friend and pour out everything that had happened since their fight. Nina and Jeff might have reconciled—Jeff had told Sam about it, right after it happened, and Sam had seen the photos of them together this past week—but she and Nina still hadn’t spoken since that awful day in Nina’s dorm room. The silence echoed with all the things they’d shouted at each other.
Nina cleared her throat. She was dressed totally out of character in a conservative dress and tights, her normally wavy hair pulled back.
“Sorry I didn’t warn you I was coming over. I just—I was in the area, and I thought …” Nina trailed off in confusion.
Sam frowned. “Nina, what happened?”
“I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I’ve had a wardrobe emergency.”
“Wardrobe emergency?” A smile tugged at the corner of Sam’s mouth. She was fairly certain Nina had never used those two words together.
Nina gave a quick nod, causing a few pieces of hair to slip from her bun. It made her look more like herself. “There was a misunderstanding with my dress alterations, and now I don’t have a gown for tomorrow. And every store in town is entirely picked over. I was wondering if you knew where I could get one at the last minute?” she asked in a small voice.
Sam was no longer trying to hide her smile. Given the other, monumental problems in her life right now, it was a relief to be confronted with one she could actually solve.
