If only he hadn’t made her feel like a fool for believing that same history connected them somehow.
As the garment bag fell away, Sadie took in the gown her stylist had chosen for her to wear on this evening’s red carpet. A column sheath of warm champagne satin, flowing down to a swirl of abstractly placed sequins from knee to hem, ranging in hue from pearly white to deep amber. The draped neckline was high in front and would brush her collarbones, but the dress left the wearer’s back bare, from her nape to the base of her spine. Simple, elegant, and with a surprising sensual twist, she couldn’t have chosen better herself.
From behind her, Fiona sighed enviously. “Now that is one gorgeous gown.”
Yes, it was. Shoving thoughts of Ryan aside, Sadie turned to beam at her friend. “Isn’t it just?” She eyed the garment bag on the bed next to Fiona. “And? Let’s compare.”
Fiona adjusted her glasses on her nose as she glared at the bag that housed her own dress for tonight’s event. “Nope. There’s a reason you’re a movie star and I’m not. And that reason is better clothes.” She petted the garment bag almost mournfully. “It’s okay, Elie Saab,” she murmured consolingly to the bag. “It’s not your fault Sadie has a secret cabal of angel seamstresses slaving away to turn clouds and fairy dust into magical princess dresses.”
Laughing, Sadie unbuttoned the well-worn, blue men’s dress shirt she’d donned over her lingerie in order for Fiona to do her hair and makeup. “If I had a secret cabal of anything, it wouldn’t be angelic seamstresses.” She pulled her gown from its hanger and, lowering it to pool in a fall of shining satin, stepped into it. “The cabal would need to be something cool. Like ninja monkey assassins.”
“Or Rodents of Unusual Size.”
“Exactly.” Settling the sleeveless bodice into place, Sadie turned to examine her appearance in the full-length mirror on the wall to the left of her walk-in closet. “There’s only so much one can do with seamstresses.”
In the mirror, she watched as Fiona smiled and shook her head. “I dunno. When the end product is that”—she waved her hand at Sadie—“I can see the appeal of having one of those angels on hand. You look amazing.” Fiona paused. “Definitely amazing enough to catch Ryan’s eye tonight. If that’s what you’re aiming for.”
Barefoot, Sadie moved to the mahogany dresser opposite the mirror and opened the velvet jewelry case that had been delivered along with the gown. Nestled inside were a pair of long ruby-and-rose-gold drop earrings and a matching cuff bracelet. She slid the pieces into place before turning to face Fiona. “Except I’m giving up, remember? Waving the white flag of surrender and whatnot.”
Fiona began to shed her clothes—first the skinny jeans, then the pink-and-white checked shirt that made her look almost too wholesome for the L.A. scene. One would never guess that she was a native, born and bred into the Hollywood movie business. “You know Ryan is a friend,” she said quietly.
“Yes.” It didn’t matter that the two weren’t close—Fiona had a connection to Ryan that Sadie didn’t, and it stung.
Turning her back, Fiona whipped off her tank top and unzipped the garment bag, pulling out a long dress of garnet-colored silk adorned with tiny glass beads of a red so deep as to be almost black. “I met him through Wes, obviously,” she said, naming Vendetta ’s director. “Because I meet everyone through Wes, it seems.” There was a smile in Fiona’s voice as she spoke of her longtime friend. “Anyway, the point is, I think Ryan’s a good guy.”
So did Sadie, and that was the problem.
“I mean, he’s great at his job,” Fiona continued, speaking over her shoulder to Sadie as she maneuvered the dark red gown into place. “From what I hear, he was pretty much locked in his studio for weeks working on getting the sound mixed correctly. Wes
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