American Royals
Tell no one your secrets, Daphne’s mom always said, but make them think that you have. It creates the illusion of intimacy.
“I read all the comments too! Well, for a while. Eventually I just deleted my social media handles.” Nina’s voice emanated through the dressing room door. “You never did that, did you?”
“I guess I thought that if I ran away from it all, the haters would win,” Daphne said simply.
Nina stepped in front of the mirror, wearing a black column gown that Daphne wasn’t flat-chested enough to pull off. Of course, her hair was dull and unhighlighted, and she had no makeup or nail polish on. And yet—it didn’t look totally awful on her.
“How did you make everyone …” Nina hesitated, sounding vulnerable. “Make everyone like you?”
They’ll never like you, because they’ll always love me.
Aloud she said, “They’ll like you eventually. And then they’ll dislike you, and then they’ll like you again, back and forth. That’s just the way it goes.” Daphne shrugged, as if she wasn’t particularly bothered by it, and changed the subject.
“I’m not sure about this gown. It’s kind of boring,” she declared, and pulled an ivory one-shouldered trumpet gown from one of the racks. “What about this one?”
Nina gave a puzzled frown. “Isn’t it weird to wear white at an engagement party? I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was trying to upstage Beatrice.”
Oops. Nina had grown up around the royal family; of course she couldn’t be fooled by a cheap trick like that. “Right,” Daphne agreed, without missing a beat. “I wasn’t thinking, sorry.”
“I’ll try this one,” Nina said, reaching for a navy gown flocked with a pattern of black velvet and pulling the dressing room curtain shut behind her. She didn’t suspect Daphne of a thing. Which would explain why her purse—a woven straw hobo bag that really should only be worn in the summer—was right out here in the hallway, just begging to be explored.
In a single smooth motion, Daphne opened the bag and pulled out the cell phone tucked inside.
It was touch-ID protected. Daphne swiped up to activate the camera function, then clicked the icon in the bottom left corner to scroll through the images saved to Nina’s camera roll. Surely there would be something incriminating, something Daphne could send to herself, to take this girl down for good. She flicked breathlessly through photo after photo, yet all she saw were screenshots of homework assignments, pictures of books—books!—and the occasional selfie with a dark-haired girl Daphne didn’t recognize.
This was a waste of time. Nina was apparently smart enough not to take any photos with Jefferson, or any sexy lingerie photos, either.
The curtain rustled. Daphne quickly dropped the phone into Nina’s purse and retreated a step. “This is utterly perfect,” she gushed. “I think we’re done here.”
“You think so?” Nina twisted back and forth to examine herself in profile. “Even with heels, it might be a little long ….”
Daphne nodded. She tried not to look too pleased with herself as she said, “Don’t worry about that; Halo will hem it for you. I’ll get one of the fitters now.”
Poor Cinderella, Daphne thought smugly, be careful which fairy godmother you trust. You might not have a gown for the ball after all.
NINA
Later that week, Nina headed through the glass doors of Halo and turned toward the marble checkout desk. She was startled by how different the store looked from when she’d been here before: utterly empty and picked over, as if it had been ravaged by a pack of desperate socialites.
Thank god Nina had bought her own gown before the last-minute feeding frenzy.
The girl behind the counter, who’d been halfheartedly typing into her phone, glanced up at Nina’s arrival. “Can I help you?”
“My name is Nina Gonzalez. I’m here to pick up a dress that was being altered,” Nina explained. The salesgirl emitted a ponderous sigh and vanished into the back room.
When Nina had ventured here last weekend, she’d immediately felt overwhelmed: there were too many gowns to choose from, in far too many styles. She’d wished more than anything that she could ask for Samantha’s help, except she and the princess still weren’t speaking.
Nina’s hackles had risen when Daphne showed up. She’d assumed they would exchange a few pleasantries and go back to ignoring each other, but to her utter shock, Daphne had suggested they shop together.
Nina couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough. She felt the eyes of the whole boutique on them, and knew that if she refused, the story would make its way online—about how sweet Daphne had offered to help, but Nina had rudely refused. So she’d resigned herself to the inevitable and headed to the back of the store. Where she had ended up finding a gorgeous blue-and-black dress.
It was more than Nina had spent on an article of clothing in her entire life, but she told herself that it was worth it. Beatrice’s engagement party was a big night for her and Jeff—because it was the first Washington family engagement that they would attend as a couple. In front of the entire world, and all the gathered press.
Nina shifted her weight impatiently. At least she was dressed more appropriately than the last time she’d been here.