ABIGAIL

I finish drying my hands and flop down on a neatly tailored loveseat in the corner of the ladies’ room. “Would it be terribly unbecoming of me to just have a full-fledged fit? I could do with a good tantrum right about now — just get it out of my system.”

Emily checks that the door is locked then gives me a playful scold. “I’m afraid so. Tantrums have been off the table since you turned five. But, I do have this.”

She sets her enormous purse on the vanity counter and pulls a bottle of red wine from it. “I snuck it in my bag when dear old McAllister insisted on giving me a tour of the wine cellar while you were off gallivanting at the opening ceremonies. If I had to listen to him drone on about eighteenth-century vintages for far longer than politeness allows, I wasn’t going to leave empty-handed.”

“Ah, perfect! The adult preventative to tantrums. I knew I loved you for a reason.”

I kick off my heels and squish my toes into the plush carpet of the opulent powder room as Emily produces two crystal glasses out of thin air and hands one of them to me. I don’t know how she does it. She’s like Mary Poppins and Merlin rolled into one, only better.

She fills my glass, and I wave at the empty cushion beside me. “Come, sit. You’ve been on your feet longer than I have.”

Emily eases onto the loveseat with a sigh, tucking a leg underneath her. “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

“Mmmhmm,” I murmur, taking a long sip of wine.

I don’t even care what kind it is – it’s rich and strong and feels exquisite sliding down the back of my throat. I wanted to gulp down a glass or three at dinner to steady my nerves, but that wouldn’t have been very ladylike, so I sipped politely and wished for the umpteenth time that I had been born a man — a scotch swilling, pants wearing, seductive stud of a man. They seem to have all the fun.

I bury my nose in my wine glass and take a deep, cleansing breath, feeling like fresh air is hitting my lungs for the first time all evening, despite having spent all of dinner sitting outdoors. Another long swallow of the sweet, spicy liquid, then I turn to Emily. “This whole affair is just getting started, so brace yourself.”

“I’m not worried about me,” she says, her face etched with concern. “I can lurk at the corner of the rooms and keep my nose in my phone, and no one will think unkind of me.”

I wrap an arm around her shoulder and give her a squeeze. “I’m glad, Emily. I don’t want to subject you to this any more than I want to be here.”

“Just think, it’ll all be over soon, and you’ll be married off to some Grand Douchebag, spending your days planning stuffy social events and wondering how many mistresses your husband’s acquired.”

“Thank goodness I have you to cheer me up, always ready to remind me of the good times ahead,” I say dryly.

We share a chuckle, but it’s a sad sort of laugh, the kind that stings a bit because we both know her words are truer than not.

I squeeze Emily’s hand. “At least I’ll have you with me, for a while anyway, until you’re swept off your feet by some sexy man and whisked away.”

“I shall never leave you, my Lady,” she says dramatically, clutching my hand to her chest. “Perhaps I shall marry your butler, just to stay by your side.”

“Piss off, you,” I laugh, rolling my eyes. “You should have been in theatre. Your talents are being wasted.”

“How are you holding up?” she asks, her voice turning serious once again. “Has anyone caught your eye? I’m hoping at least one of them turns out to be tolerable.”

“The suitors?” I almost choke on my wine. “Heavens, no. They’re all awful.”

Emily grimaces. “Really?”

“Let’s see. So far, there’s too old, too boring, too socially awkward, too arrogant, and let’s not forget Mr. Harridan with the creepy fingers — oh, and the latest one, I’m pretty sure he’s planning to lock me in a tower until I learn my place because, after all, I’m just a silly little woman with nothing to offer, so I better gratefully submit to my husband’s every wish.”

“Then you should definitely take my advice and pursue Henry for some more, um… private activities, while you can.”

“I think you might be right.”

“Of course I’m right. I don’t know how you aren’t just going wild right now, given what you’re facing. You’re sacrificing so much.”

“I don’t mind.” I reply automatically, but a moment later, I shake my head at the lie. I’ve tried to be chin-up about the situation, but Emily knows it’s not all rainbows. She’s seen me at the low moments. “Well, I’m managing, let’s just say that. It’s for my family, you know? I’d do anything for my parents.”

“I know. And they are so lucky to have a daughter like you. But right now? Go have your fun, Abi. God knows you deserve it.”

I shake my head. “It’s sad, really, isn’t it? My last hurrah.”

“At least you’re getting a hurrah, thanks to Henry, right? And damn, Abi. I know you said he was good looking, and I’ve seen him in the papers and on TV, but wow. I mean, he really has that sexy, smoldering thing going on in person. Like… daaaaamn.”

I laugh. “Believe me, I know. He’s always had that effect on me, from the time I turned twelve and realized boys are cute. He’s like some kind of black magic voodoo in a tux. And then, last night, he took it to a whole other level. He should come with a warning sign.”

Emily laughs, and I stretch out my legs, alternately pointing my toes and tightening my calves then relaxing them. I can’t remember the last time I wore heels for so long.

At the university, I could wear shorts, t-shirts, and my beloved worn-in strappy sandals. I could pull my hair back in a quick knot and not fuss with makeup. Not here. Not anywhere anymore. From now on, it would be dress suits and formal gowns, styled hairdos and high heels.

“I should have spent every spare second between classes looking for my non-existent, long-lost twin. Someone to be me for the next fifty years.” I tip my head back and finish the rest of my wine in a few swallows.

Emily pats me sweetly on the knee and reaches for the bottle to refill our glasses.