Keeping Secrets in Seattle - By Brooke Moss Page 0,39
emerged from the dressing rooms and grabbed the champagne bottle.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a hushed voice, emptying the champagne into her glass. “I need this. Badly.”
I shook my head. “Agreed.”
Shawn threw her head back and drank most of the champagne in one gulp, then flopped down next to me.
“You all right?” I asked.
She stared down at the floor in a daze. “I’m about to spend about a thousand dollars on a dress I will never wear again.”
I nodded. “I think I’ll have to wear my dress to work a few times…maybe while I am cleaning my apartment, too. Hell, I might wear it every day for a year.”
She laughed quietly, then looked over her shoulder carefully. “I might try to resell mine.”
“Ooh, that’s a good idea.” I smiled at her. “My mother would kill me, though. She would say it’s tacky to resell it. She has a closet of dresses she’s only worn once.”
“Does she shop a lot or something?” Shawn took another sip of champagne, and hiccupped.
I almost pointed out that she might want to slow down, then remembered that she was a model. This and a cigarette would probably be her lunch. Instead, I just nodded enthusiastically.
“I’ll bet your dad didn’t appreciate that. My dad used to hate my stepmother’s shopping obsession,” she said.
“I didn’t have a dad growing up.” I folded my arms across my chest, the early morning wine making me more forthcoming than usual. Before too long I was going to share the story of how badly I wanted a kitten as a child. “Well, I had a few stepfathers, but never a dad, you know?”
Shawn nodded. “It was the opposite for me. Lots of stepmothers, but no real mom.”
I sighed happily. “Then you understand why I loved Gabe’s parents when I was a kid. I still do. They’re like my surrogate family.”
“It would have been nice to find a surrogate family when I was little,” she mused.
I looked down. “I don’t know why I told you all of that.”
“Because it’s ten a.m., and you’ve already had a glass of champagne. And because you think you have to explain yourself to me.”
“So true. I don’t want all of you girls to think I am just hanging around trying to steal Gabe away from Alicia. I’m not. I’m just…part of the Parker family. I know that’s hard for her to understand.”
One of Shawn’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t be too sympathetic, Violet. Alicia’s not as fragile as she pretends to be.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She took another long drag. “I mean…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Alicia knows exactly where you stand with Gabriel’s family. She knows you’re a part of them, and she’s going to change things.”
Worry churned inside of me. “Why would she do that?”
“Because you take the focus off of her. Gabriel, Nora, Gabriel’s sisters, everyone. They’re drawn to you, and they’ve accepted you, and she is jealous.”
“Of me?” I didn’t get it. She had no reason to envy me. She had Gabe completely wrapped around her finger.
Shawn shrugged. “Because of how Gabe feels about you.”
“She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s marrying into this incredible family, and she’s got him.” My voice broke at the end of my sentence.
Shawn looked at me closely. “Alicia Long doesn’t compete with anyone. Not other models. Not other hostesses at her job. Not other women, including relatives or best friends. She’s got her eye on the prize, and she’ll stop at nothing to get it.”
I furrowed my brow. “Why did you say her name that way?”
Shawn looked at her glass thoughtfully. “If you look far enough into Alicia’s past, you’ll figure it out.”
Good Lord, I was walking around in a living, breathing episode of Dallas.
“What’s the prize?” I squeaked.
She shivered and glanced at her watch. “The prize is Gabriel. And we’d better get this fitting wrapped up soon. I’ve got a bus to catch.”
I gaped at her. “What did you say?”
“I missed my bus coming here, so I had to catch a cab.” She patted her hair to make sure it was still in place. “I can’t afford another cab home.”
I gasped. “I thought you hated bus people.”
“Shhhhh.” Shawn looked around carefully. “My car broke down three months ago, and I haven’t had the money to fix it. I can’t afford to park it anywhere in this city, anyway.”
“You’re a closet bus rider?” I whispered.
Shawn nodded. “It makes sense here in the city.”
“I hate Gabe’s giant car,” I grumbled. “Talk about excess.”