Secrets Of The A-List (Episode 12 Of 12). Karen Booth

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СКАЧАТЬ for life. Maybe that was the way business had to be done now.

      * * *

      “No. Absolutely not. It’s awful.” Mariella glared at her own reflection in the full-length mirror in her bedroom suite at the Grecian, where the family had six suites on the forty-fifth floor for the weekend. “It’s completely hideous. Unzip me now.”

      “Yes. Of course. There are other dresses to try.” Vanessa complied with Mariella’s wishes, thinking that she couldn’t look hideous in anything if she tried. She had an enviable figure and the gown she had on was particularly gorgeous—black French lace with a plunging neckline and elegant beading on the slim-fitting skirt. The designer had sent it straight from Paris the minute he’d heard the Marshalls were hosting the Halloween masquerade ball.

      “What about this one? The dark red with the sweetheart neckline?” Vanessa asked, pointing to one of the many gowns laid out on Mariella’s bed. Five had been deemed noes in this impromptu fashion show, and there were another half dozen left to be tried. Vanessa had spent hours steaming wrinkles out of them overnight and had them on the corporate jet at 6:00 a.m. as ordered. Mariella had sent most away with a single glance and a flick of her wrist.

      Vanessa gently laid out the hideous gown and retrieved the one she’d suggested. “This one will look beautiful on you.”

      Mariella smiled warmly at her, which was always a bit bizarre. Most of the time, especially since Harrison’s accident, Mariella was hell on wheels. The other Casa Cat staff referred to dealing with Mariella’s demeanor as their own version of Russian roulette—you never knew what you were going to get. The prospects scared the hell out of most of them.

      Despite Mariella’s sometime brusque attitude, Vanessa enjoyed these moments when it was just the two of them and Mariella let down her guard. She could be a warm person when she wanted to be, and Vanessa did sympathize with Mariella’s situation. It couldn’t be easy to go on living your everyday life with your husband in a coma. Truly, any pleasant exchange between the two of them made Vanessa feel as though she might be slightly less invisible than the other members of the staff. Mariella had already asked Vanessa to call her by her first name. To the others, she was still Mrs. Santiago-Marshall. Still, most of the time Vanessa felt as though she floated through the halls of the estate like a ghost. Mariella and the other Marshalls really hadn’t taken the chance to get to know her, nor had they given any indication that they ever cared to.

      Except for Luc. He was different, but that made her more nervous than anything. Their first run-in had been innocent enough—a few words in the hall when she’d bumped into him and dropped her basket of laundry on her first day. She’d laughed at one of his jokes, which made him smile, and that had apparently been enough to make him want to keep the conversation going. But when she found out who he was, she backed away. Despite finding him attractive—any woman would—there was a barrier there neither of them could cross. The problem was, she couldn’t tell him anything about it.

      As time went by, he began to seek her out, try to steal a few minutes with her. He’d go looking for her in the house, in places the family rarely went, like the laundry area or the butler’s pantry. He seemed happy when he found her. He asked her questions, tried to make conversation. Vanessa had been so unnerved by it, she didn’t know what to do. She’d been wondering, quite seriously, if it was some sort of trick to get her fired for daring to fraternize with a member of the family. As he began to confide in her, they grew closer, but she also became more careful. She didn’t reveal too much about herself, keeping information vague.

      Luc’s circumstances, growing up a product of privilege, couldn’t be more different, and yet, they connected. He listened. He seemed to care. Everything on the surface of Luc’s life looked perfect—important career, gorgeous girlfriend from a well-connected family, and of course, the Marshalls were no slouches when it came to providing for their children. He had succeeded in all the ways society valued, and yet he said he felt empty. His plastic surgery career was only fulfilling when he worked for Doctors Without Borders. He felt estranged from his siblings—he and Rafe were always at odds, and Elana was so scattered it was impossible to maintain a connection. Then had come the most telling detail—his relationship with Rachel was shallow. Meaningless. He’d used those exact words.

      Once, while driving her to the estate after her own car broke down, he’d asked her if she had siblings. She’d replied that she was an only child and abruptly changed the subject. Revealing more details at that point would be nothing more than opening Pandora’s box. As much as she wanted to match his openness, she couldn’t afford to do it. It would leave her too exposed. So she’d deflected back to him, and that seemed to work.

      She’d had no reason to suspect he considered her anything more than a friend. She was a housekeeper, for God’s sake, and he was dating a stunningly beautiful congressman’s daughter. Their lots in life could not be any more different. Perhaps the absurdity of their friendship was the reason she’d allowed it to continue. But then one day he came to the house and there was a look in his eye that stopped her dead in her tracks.

      “I’m falling for you, Vanessa,” he’d said. “You’re all I think about. I make up excuses to come to the house, just so I can see you. When I get home, I replay every word between us.”

      Vanessa could still remember exactly how hard her heart was hammering when he’d made his confession. “Luc. No. This isn’t right.”

      “Why? Because it feels anything but wrong.” He’d reached for her then, and it was hard to keep her wits about her. He was so sincere.

      “I can’t tell you why,” she’d said before stealing away upstairs to her room.

      She couldn’t tell him then, and she couldn’t tell him now. She needed to tell Mariella first.

      “The red dress really is quite lovely.” Mariella smoothed her hand over her hips and swiveled back and forth before the mirror.

      “You look absolutely gorgeous,” Vanessa said. It was the truth.

      “I know I’m supposed to wear dark colors, but I don’t think I have the strength to try on another dress anyway. Plus, it’s my ball. Let’s go with this one. You can take the rest away.”

      Vanessa went right to work, gathering the luxurious silk and satin dresses and draping them over her arm. After four or five, she was already feeling weighed down. “I’ll be right back for the rest.” She headed into Mariella’s closet. The boxes the dresses had been shipped in, from Italy, France, Japan and all over the US, were neatly stacked.

      “Vanessa!” Mariella called out.

      Panicked, Vanessa plopped down the dresses and walked double time back to Mariella’s room. She’d seemed almost happy when Vanessa had left a minute ago. There was no telling what fresh hell had just been unleashed. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

      Mariella was standing there holding the dress she’d earlier described as hideous. “Is there any chance you and I wear the same size?” She looked Vanessa up and down, eyebrows lowered in deep concentration, almost as if she was seeing her for the first time.

      “Yes, Mariella. I believe so. Is there a problem?”

      Mariella smiled. “You know, you really are a beautiful girl. Why don’t you take this dress and join us at the ball tonight? You’ve been such a help to me over the last few weeks, and it’s no fun to sit in your hotel room by yourself. We’re in Vegas. You should come and enjoy yourself.”

      Vanessa didn’t know what to say. She’d suddenly СКАЧАТЬ