A Cinderella Seduction. Karen Booth

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      “Speaking of which, I happened to notice that our exclusive arrangement with Nora Bradford still hasn’t been renewed.”

      Sophie frowned. “I know. They’re dragging their feet. You know, we lost two of our exclusive designers in late December, right before you started. If we lose Nora, it would be devastating.”

      “Why do you think this is happening?”

      “People aren’t treating us the way they did when Gram was in charge.”

      Emma took another sip. “Sounds like we need to get a few things in line.”

      “I’m working on it. I’ll need your help at some point. For now, I’m hoping the dress I picked for tonight might help. It’s in the fitting room.”

      “Dress? Singular?”

      “I know I said I’d give you some choices, but this one is perfect. It just came in this morning. It’s one of our Nora Bradford exclusives.” Sophie shooed her into the fitting room. “Go on. Go look.”

      Emma ducked inside the dressing area. On the hook was a dress she wouldn’t have dared to choose. Ice blue, strapless and sparkly and daring. It was so far outside her comfort zone it was in a different zip code. And maybe that was exactly what she needed.

      Wasting no time, she shed her work clothes and slipped into the garment. “Can you help with the zipper?” she called.

      Sophie poked her head inside and her face lit up. “That’s it. That’s the dress. It’s even better than I imagined. Now suck in your breath.”

      With a quick zip, Emma was squeezed in. She looked down at herself. “I don’t know. I’ve never worn a strapless dress before and there’s all this fabric.” She fussed with the strips of pale blue organza that made up the skirt. If she stood still, her legs were hidden, but the second she moved, the strips swished open like streamers in the breeze. “What if I trip? And I can barely breathe.” The bodice was holding her tight, all the way down to her hips.

      “Oh, there is no breathing in a strapless dress. Not if you want it to stay up all night. And really, you look incredible. It’s perfect for your body. You look sexy and glamorous.”

      “I do?” If it wasn’t for the freckles on her cheeks and the earrings she wore every day, Emma wouldn’t have even known it was her.

      “Yes. And the best part is I’ve instructed the department manager to keep the rest of the inventory off the showroom floor until tomorrow morning. You’ll be the only one at Empire State wearing this.”

      Emma studied herself in the mirror, dropping her head to the side and swishing the skirt. The dress looked like magic. Maybe this really was the right choice. “Okay. This is the one.”

      Sophie grinned with pride and clapped her hands on Emma’s shoulders. “I don’t want you to be nervous about tonight. You’ll be amazing. And I’ll be there the whole time, okay?”

      Emma felt so much better than she had that morning. “Thank you for helping me. And thank you for asking me to be a bridesmaid. That means a lot to me.”

      “Of course. You’re my sister. It only seems right that you’d be a part of my wedding.”

      Emma had never felt so optimistic. Sophie was making such an effort to include her. Emma was starting to feel like a real part of the Eden clan, less like a person who was unwittingly plopped down in the middle of it. She would get what she’d missed out on during her twenty-seven years in the world—a close relationship with siblings, the camaraderie of an extended family. She felt sure of it now.

      From the bench in the corner, Emma’s phone buzzed. “Oh, shoot. I have a call.” Back to reality.

      “I’ll help you out of the dress. Then I need to get Lizzie to order me some lunch.”

      Emma changed and raced upstairs. One of Eden’s personal shoppers steamed the gown and delivered it to her office, along with a pair of strappy silver Blahniks Sophie had picked out. The dress was the only thing Emma looked at as she finished up her call. The fabric, the style, the price tag—it all seemed unreal, as if it wasn’t meant for her.

      Mindy appeared in Emma’s office doorway around three. “The hair and makeup people are here, but we have a problem. Sophie’s sick.”

      “Is she okay?”

      Mindy shook her head. “A stomach bug or something she ate. I sent her home. I don’t see any way she can come tonight. Looks like it’s just you and me.”

      Great. The sister who hates me. Emma felt queasy herself. Her security blanket was gone. “Oh. Okay.”

      “We need to leave right at five or we’ll get stuck in traffic forever. I’ll send in the hair and makeup people.”

      Emma was now not only nervous, she was dreading tonight. Before she had time to think about it, a man and a woman invaded her office with brushes, hair clips, a curling iron, and every shade of lipstick and type of hair product you could imagine. They wheeled her across her office in her chair and parked her in front of a full-length mirror they’d brought.

      The male stylist took her hair out of the ponytail and tutted. “I’m Anthony. This is going to take a while.”

      The makeup artist at least offered a smile. “I’m Charity. It’s going to take me some time, too.”

      “Oh. Okay. Well, I’m Emma.”

      “We know,” they answered in unison.

      Charity dug through a case of makeup, picking up tubes and examining the colors. “I’m going to cover your freckles, if that’s okay.” She pointed to Emma’s cheeks.

      “I like them.”

      Charity shook her head. “I don’t think they’ll photograph well. There will be paparazzi tonight. You want to look good.”

      Emma hadn’t taken the time to think about the fate of her freckles, and definitely not photographers. “Do whatever you need to do.”

      The duo went to work, tugging and dabbing, prodding and pulling, spraying and spritzing. Emma kept her eyes closed whenever possible. They were doing too many things that she would never do to herself.

      “Voilà,” Anthony said a good forty-five minutes later. He was like Michelangelo presenting a masterpiece.

      Emma opened her eyes and blinked several times. If it wasn’t for the same clothes she’d worn to work, she never would have known it was her. Her hair was tugged back in a dramatic updo, she had long false lashes and smoky eyes. She looked fantastic, practically ready for the cover of a magazine. So this was what it was like to be glamorous.

      “Wow,” was all she could say.

      “Emma, you are a stunning woman if you put some work into it,” Charity said.

      Perhaps that was her problem. She hadn’t been trying hard enough. “Thank you so much. Both of you.”

      “Call us anytime.”

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