While she was gone, I peered down at the courtyard that had been transformed with the magic that only gobs of money could bring about. Marco would be pleased.
In two minutes, Lexi was back with her makeup bag.
“Not for me.” I held up a hand as if warding off Ebola. I hated all that stuff and never knew what to do with it, although every Christmas I found an eye shadow palette in my stocking. But I closed my eyes while Lexi swiped my lids with her brush and worked with pencils. And she didn’t stop there. Apparently, my lips weren’t prominent enough. Another set of brushes came out.
“So this is where your allowance goes every week?”
“Not really. Why do you think I babysit so much?”
“I thought you enjoyed children. And I’m proud of you for being so independent.”
“Right.” Finally, she stepped back. I went back to the mirror, the gown rustling around my ankles. “Oh, I don’t think…”
The knock at the door was sharp. “Come in!” Would it be Ama, coming to see how I looked in the dress she’d so generously loaned me?
But it was Enrico, one of Marco’s footmen. “They are waiting for you, Profesora.”
They were? Who was “they”?“All right. We’re coming. Thank you, Enrico.”
He disappeared. I went to smooth my hair, but Lexi stopped me.
“Mom, don’t ruin it. Please.”
Grabbing my small beaded handbag, the same bag I’d carried to the prom, I sucked in a breath. “Go and get dressed. I’ll meet you outside.”
She gave me a soft push with her hands. “Can’t wait to see what they think of you.”
My stomach clenched at the thought. We stepped into the quiet corridor. Closing the door behind me, I pressed a hand to my stomach and reminded myself to breathe. With so many guests attending, I could hide in the crowd. At least, that was my intention.
The long gown pulled at me with each step so I couldn’t hurry toward the elevator. The ride down to the first-floor level seemed to take forever. Maybe it would malfunction, and I could hide in here all night. But the thought brought on a terrible attack of claustrophobia. In any case, Lexi would come searching for me. How I wished she were with me now. When the elevator finally stopped with a lurch, I hurried out into the hallway.
Laughter bubbled into the first floor on a breeze flowing from the french doors that had been left open in almost every room I passed. Marco might be taking this opportunity to show off his castle. Beneath the chatter of people talking, the orchestra provided a stringed backdrop with a bit of brass. As I slowed my steps, I thought I recognized the James Bond theme fromGoldfinger.
If I was asked what movie I was from, I would sayCinderella.
Eyes down, I hurried past guests in the foyer and escaped into the fresh air. What a beautiful night for a party. Was I really living this dream? Back on Willard Street, they’d be getting ready for the summer block party. My special bacon and brown sugar beans would be ready in my pyrex dish. Lexi would help me haul our lawn chairs over to the Walkers' house because they had the biggest back yard.
Glancing past the fountain into the falling dusk, I took in the mystical scene. Tiny white lights were suspended above the guests and wrapped the palm trees set about the terrace in enormous blue pots. To either side rose an ice sculpture of a dolphin. Around each sculpture, shrimp and crab legs were heaped alongside crystal dishes with sauces. Grilles sat on the side patio and the smells coming from that area were enough to make my mouth water. But the snug fit of this bodice reminded me that I couldn’t eat much.
Standing to one side, I took it all in, knowing that I wasn’t really a part of all this. No problem. I’d stay in the background. Waiters circulated with flutes of champagne. Although I wasn’t much of a drinker, the waiters didn’t have any pop. I whisked a flute from the tray and the waiter smiled.
Clutching my glass of bubbly wonderfulness, I looked around. Not one familiar face. I upended the glass, feeling a flush sear my cheeks. “Profesora!” I turned as Gregorio broke through the crowd.
“Don’t you look dashing.” He wore a tuxedo and tonight he looked like a young man who might go to Harvard. “What movie are you from?”
“Movie?” For a second he looked confused.
“Your costume. Are you James Bond?”
“Oh, that. No. Didn’t Nonna tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Another waiter appeared, taking the empty flute from my numb fingers and handing me a replacement.
“I guess people complained that they didn’t have movie costumes. So, my father changed it to formal wear.”
What? Embarrassment rolled through me in hot waves. “I didn’t get the message.”
Gregorio gave me an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry. You look beautiful. Did you bring that dress with you?”
