Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
After I grab my clutch and load it full of the essentials (snacks mainly), they make me pose for loads of pictures out in the living room, like they’re my two mums sending me off to a school dance.
“Don’t slouch! Hold your head up and make sure to walk in like you bloody well belong there!” Yasmine reminds me as they direct me toward the door of the flat.
“And send us loads of pics if you can! Remember what kind of food they serve! And all the celebrities you see!” Kat shouts out as I start to head slowly down the stairs, careful not to trip and fall and ruin all their hard work.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Pat down at the curb waiting for me. When he sees me, he gives me an over-the-top reaction, clapping his hands against his cheeks as if he can’t believe how nice I look.
“You’re the most beautiful gal in New York City!”
I roll my eyes teasingly. “Now now, don’t go filling my head up with compliments. I’ll need to remember who I am come midnight when my carriage turns back into a pumpkin.”
He laughs and shakes his head, and we hop into the car together.
There’s terrible traffic on the street around Gotham Hall. I tell Pat he can drop me a ways off and I can just walk the rest, but he says he doesn’t mind.
“You’re early anyway, right? Looks like there isn’t anyone on the red carpet yet.”
I gulp. Did I read Rosie’s email wrong? Was I supposed to arrive later? No. I check again. She said 7:00 and it’s only 7:01. I’m on time and have no choice but to open my door when Pat pulls up to the curb.
“Any chance I can convince you to come in with me?” I plead, looking back at him as I hover halfway out of the car.
He gives me a lopsided smile, like he pities me. “Would if I could. Bet there’s going to be some good food in there.”
“You could be my date,” I tease, and he laughs.
“Your date will be here soon. You’re gonna knock his socks off. Have fun, kiddo.”
“Right. Okay. I’ll see you later! Thanks for the lift!”
I step out onto the curb and fix my dress so the slit is centered on my left thigh and not my crotch (lovely). Then, instead of making a move for the front entrance, I watch as Pat drives away and makes room for the next car to pull up. My gut twists as I watch him leave, like he’s my security blanket and, without him, I’ve got nothing.
A group of people hop out of the car that just pulled up, laughing and chatting as they pass me by. I feel lonely as I follow behind them, letting them lead me in the right direction. There are loads of media already lined up on either side of the red carpet, but they don’t bother looking our way. It must be clear that all the normal people are arriving early and skipping the red carpet, so there’s no need to turn around and snap photos of us.
I slip right behind them then wait my turn at the side entrance. A group of people dressed in black with headsets on and tablets in their hands asks each guest for their ID before they’re allowed past. I’m shaky with nerves as I pass mine over.
“Hopefully my name’s on your list! I was only added this week, I think,” I stammer, though she’s paying me no attention.
“Williams, Candace. You can go in.”
Then she hands me back my ID and looks behind me toward the next person.
Right, well, I’ve breached the defenses rather easily!
The joke makes me smile to myself as I join the small crowd of people heading inside Gotham Hall. The building is huge, but it’s easy enough to follow the carpet-lined passage toward a huge set of double doors, which are open so people can flood into the main event space. The gala is housed inside a huge round room covered with a dome made up of ornate stained-glass. Wowzers, it’s quite a venue, all tinted blue with snazzy lighting so everyone looks their absolute best. There’re loads of attendants hovering around in tuxedos, ready with trays of canapés and flutes of champagne. I grab one and take a heavy sip, smiling with delight as the bubbles fill my mouth.
“Delicious,” I say, smiling at the waiter.
He grins back and I think he’s about to say something, but then another guest catches his attention and asks for two flutes of her own.
I drift around the perimeter of the space, taking in the crowd. Since it’s still early, not many people are here yet. I sort of hate it because it makes it harder to blend in. I look for someone else standing off by themselves, like me, but it seems like everyone else belongs more than I do. I try not to stop walking for long, aware that if I do, I’ll really look like a sad sap. I sip my champagne and try to take my time looking around the room at the stained glass and the night sky showing through it.