Page 136 of Cashmere Ruin
The mermaid dress guy pushes me forward with a chuckle. I almost trip and fall, but I manage to right myself at the last second. The crowd’s laughing now, but it doesn’t feel like they’re laughingatme.
It feels like they’re laughingwithme.
“Congratulations, Ms. Flowers,” someone in a suit says. “We look forward to having you here.”
It’s like a scene from a movie: just like that, I’m handed a cartoonishly giant check. The crowd’s applause is a dull roar, the judges nodding approvingly from their dais. Nora’s seething, and I can’t imagine Anne’s much happier behind me. Admiration, envy, irritation—whatever the emotion behind it, everyone’s looking at me now. All of them.
But I only have eyes for one.
41
MATVEY
I couldn’t be prouder.
I watch April on the stage, that huge check in her arms, laughing and shaking hands and getting photographed for the contest’s yearbook, and I feel my chest swell with something I’ve never felt before.
When she leaps down from the stage, I catch her in my arms. “Congratulations,” I murmur in her hair. “You’re about to become a very expensive tailor.”
She squeezes me tightly in return. Her cheeks are just the least bit wet, but I pretend I don’t notice. “Don’t worry,” she laughs. “I’ll keep giving you the friends and family treatment.”
“Just as long as you don’t give it to anyone else,” I growl as memories of tying April’s wrists together with a length of blue silk flash in my head.
Her cheeks burning bright scarlet says she’s remembering the exact same thing. “Hey,” she says, “I don’t actually have to bring this thing to the bank, do I?”
I ruffle her hair. “Nope. Hand it to a valet. They’ll bring it to the car.”
“I bet Grisha’s gonna be thrilled about having that in his rearview mirror.”
“He’ll deal. He only uses it to spy on passengers anyway.”
Someone coughs behind us. I’m tempted to ignore them, but I have a sneaking suspicion I know who it is. Even the stench of expensive perfume isn’t enough to mask how full of shit the wearer is.
I reluctantly let go of April. “Mrs. Le Blanc.”
She shoots me a mildly terrified look, but doesn’t say anything back.Probably too scared to talk to me. “I suppose congratulations are in order,” she grumbles to her stepdaughter.
“You really won’t have time for that baby now, will you?” Anne fake-sighs.
That’s it.I’m about to finally put them in their place when April’s hand stops me, landing gently on my shoulder.
“I’ll make time.” She smiles politely. “That’s what family does, after all.” Then her face turns serious. “I hope you’ve learned something from this, Anne.”
“Have a quickie in the bathroom for good luck?”
“Cheating gets you nowhere.” April’s expression goes softer. Kinder. It throws me off—and it seems to throw Anne off, too. “If you’re really interested in fashion, I can always give you a few pointers, you know. You can try again with a piece of your own next year.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because I’m still your sister,” she replies. “Icanbe your sister. If you’ll let me.”
I shake my head. Of course she’d say that. It’s just like April—to extend a helping hand to someone who’s always been an enemy. To try and fix things, even now.
For a second—only a second—something flickers across Anne’s eyes. Something like doubt.
But it’s gone as quickly as it came. “Oh, please. Don’t make me laugh. As if you could ever teach me anything!” She starts cackling maniacally, but it’s so forced, everyone can tell. “Did you forget? You lost, too! The shitty dress I stole from you justlost!”
It’s like watching a train wreck happen. A split second after the words leave Anne’s lips, her face goes slack, realization dawning. Of what she just said—and of how loudly she said it.