Page 61 of Paging Dr. Hart
“What? Like a wedding dress?” Shelly asks, with a side glance my way.
“No, more like a ball gown.” That fabric had felt so smooth in my hands when I touched it as a small child. I’ve never forgotten the sensation.
She tilts her head. “Why would your mom have a dress like that?” The blinker makes a clicking noise as we take a right at the next intersection.
“Not sure. I’ve never seen her wear it. When I asked about it, she changed the subject.” I adjust the straps of my bikini top. They’re digging into my shoulders again. I’ll have red grooves in my skin by the end of the night.
“If she doesn’t talk about the dress, why didn’t she throw it away?” Shelly pulls into the Starlight parking lot.
After she parks, we look around carefully before unlocking our doors and stepping out of the SUV. We’re both still gun-shy after our run-in with Skull Man. This parking lot stirs those dark memories.
“I have no idea where that dress comes from. My mom has secrets, a whole life before we moved here that she won’t talk about. It’s frustrating because it’s my history too. I should have some right to it. I don’t know where or who I come from.” Tears prick at the back of my throat. The stress of the upcoming ball, not to mention school and my mom’s illness, is making me overly emotional. I’ve been on the verge of a meltdown several times this past week.
Shelly sees my distress. “Hey,” she says gently, “don’t feel too bad about it. I know exactly who and where I come from. Let me tell you, it’s no comfort. More like a self-fulfilling prophecy. You’re lucky not to have all that baggage weighing you down.”
I blink back my tears before they fall. “It’s just hard sometimes, like I can’t really know who I am since I don’t know where I come from.”
Shelly reaches an arm around my shoulder and gives me a soft squeeze. “Iknow who you are. You’re Tiffany, the best friend and daughter anyone could ever ask for. You’re smart and brave and hot as hell.” She lightly pinches my arm and grins mischievously at the last part.
“Don’t you ever forget those things.” Shelly’s demeanor changes. Her eyes glisten, and she chokes out fiercely, “No matter what happens after tomorrow, don’t forget who you are and that I love you.” She’s not usually big on public displays of affection, so I’m shocked when she pulls me into a long, hard hug.
Looks like I’m not the only one worried about the robbery.
“I love you too, Shelly.” I hold my best friend tight, my tears forgotten.
51
After the taxi drops me off at the entrance to the Luxor, I pause to look up at the pyramid-shaped structure. The smoky glass walls of the hotel angle steeply upward until they meet at a sharp peak at the very top of the building, where a blinding column of light shoots straight up, illuminating the night sky.
Dark creatures flap in and out of this beam of light, like ancient fire-breathing dragons.Bats,I realize with a start. The moon is a tiny fingernail of silver in the distance.
I feel eyes on me, but when I turn no one’s looking my way.Weird.Probably just overthinking things since I’m stressed. I run shaky hands over the shimmering white satin of my dress, taking comfort from its cool silkiness. The sleeveless bodice shows off my long creamy neckline and the soft hollow between my breasts. The dress fits like a glove. There’s no way it could fit so well if it hadn’t been made for my mother.
Earlier, when I was getting dressed, I had unzipped the garment bag that held the dress, and a faint scent of flowers and perfume, decades-old like a distant memory, wafted out. Again, I wonder when my mother wore it last.
Right before I left my room, I had glanced at my smudged full-length mirror and had frozen, staring at my reflection. I look good in this white dress. I won’t use the word beautiful. My mother is beautiful. I’m a poor imitation of that, like a faded print when the copy machine runs out of ink. But in this dress, with my hair and makeup done, I can admit that I’m pretty.
I suck in one last breath of the crisp night air and head inside to find Stewart in the hotel lobby. We’ve arranged to meet there so he can escort me up to the party. “I’ll have to get you past all the security,” he had told me earlier, which made my heart constrict with fear.
When Stewart sees me for the first time across the crowded lobby, his mouth drops open. His obvious admiration fuels my confidence. I walk slowly to him with my head held high.
Cheeks turning red, he stutters, “Wow, Tiffany, you look…gorgeous. I’m going to be the…the envy of every other man in the room tonight. I can’t wait to show you off.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. “Thanks, Stewart, that’s nice of you to say.”
Traitor, my mind screams,you’re going to break his heart. I shove the intrusive thoughts away. If I’m going to play my role this evening, I can’t afford to be distracted by my conscience.
Stewart sticks out his elbow and says, “Shall we?”
Like a scene in a glamorous Hollywood movie, I loop my arm through his and say, “We shall.”
He leads me to a single elevator in the back corner of the lobby, partially hidden by large potted palm trees. It has golden doors with an ornate scrolling pattern. There’s no button to push, just a small square metal plate with a sign above it that reads Private.
Using his free hand, Stewart digs in his front pants pocket. He produces a rectangular plastic badge that has his picture and name on it. I go rigid when I see the keycard in his hand.
That’s it. That’s what I need to steal from him tonight.
Seeing it makes everything real. If I take it from him, there will be no going back to who I was before. That person will be gone, dead to me. I’ll cross a threshold and become a criminal. Someone willing to sacrifice innocents like Stewart for my own needs.
