“This isn’t your fault. It’s mine,” Izzie said as the carriage lurched forward again. “Kylie has always liked to tease me about EC, but she had my back when I moved. Some of my other friends heard my new zip code and wanted nothing to do with me anymore. So how do I repay her for being a good friend? By freaking out that she’s dating Hayden and by being embarrassed of her.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I was worried about Kylie fitting in. Kylie is not Dylan. Kylie’s my friend no matter what. Sure, she shoots her mouth off, but for the longest time, Kylie was the only real friend I had.” She looked at Violet. “It would be great if you could give her the same shot you gave me when I was a social leper. I love you both, Vi, and I don’t want to have to choose between you, but that’s what I feel like I’ve been doing.”
Mira was proud of Izzie for standing up for Kylie. She watched as the two hugged.
“Okay.” Violet smiled. “I will give her another shot. But it’s only because I love you, too, and if you love her, I’m sure I’ll learn to.”
Mira was happy the heavy discussion was out of the way before they exited their carriage. She barely had enough time to gather her bag and her fan before a gentleman in an old-fashioned tuxedo was holding out his hand to help them out. “Ladies.” He tipped his hat. “Welcome to the Crystal Ball.”
Mira wondered if the Crystal Ball had always been this gorgeous, or if she had just been so busy working the party that she had never really noticed. Because when she got to the entrance to the tent, she was awestruck. Her eyes were drawn to the ceiling, where thousands of twinkling lights had been strung over the dance floor. There was a traditional band, like there was for all EC events of this size, and an elaborate seating chart that she would have to navigate later, but what she couldn’t stop staring at were the period touches—the china, the linens, and the oversize black-and-white photos of Founders Days past. Seeing everyone playing dress-up felt like stepping back in time into one of those photos. A woman in a stunning pale green V-neck gown with a wide skirt and the most elaborate feather headpiece Mira had ever seen walked past her with a man in a top hat. “Hi, Mom,” Mira said.
Mira’s mother turned. “Hi, sweetheart! Isn’t this ball magnificent? It is the perfect mix of town history and glamour.”
Izzie touched the headbands to make sure they were still in place. “I’d have to agree. You guys are the spitting image of the Whitabakers.” Mira’s parents blinked. “You know, that couple who used to hold that lavish party at their rice plantation?” Izzie gave them a wry smile as Mira’s mom’s jaw dropped along with Mira’s. Her dad looked mildly amused.
“I know who they are,” Mira’s mom said. “But how do you know?”
“They’re in almost every book the Emerald Cove Historical Society has at the museum,” Izzie said proudly. “They’re one of the founding families who helped shape the South’s Junior League.” Everyone was still gaping, but Izzie just shrugged. “Savannah was right. I should know more about the place I call home. But don’t tell her I have been to the museum.”
“You’ve been to the museum?” Mira and Aunt Maureen asked at the same time.
“Brayden took me on Valentine’s Day after our carriage ride.” Izzie adjusted one of her headbands. “Somehow that part of my evening got lost in Grayson Reynolds’s coverage.” She smirked. “I guess he finds actual facts boring.”
Their dad smiled. “Grayson is underestimating you. In my book, you are officially an Emerald Cove lady.”
She grinned. “Thanks. The EC history lesson was kind of fun. I might even do my midterm English paper on Audrey Strausburg. That woman had guts.” Izzie’s smile suddenly froze, and Mira looked around to see why. Zoe was walking toward them.
“Hello,” she said tentatively. Zoe looked out of place in a black shift dress, but maybe she didn’t have to dress up to be the official photographer. Guests had to abide by the gala rules, which said to come in costume or not to come at all.
Mira glanced at her dad. His smile reminded her of the ones he gave to politicians with opposing viewpoints. “Hello, Zoe,” her dad said. “We didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you said you were leaving for California tonight.”
“I am.” Zoe eyed Izzie, who looked perturbed. “Just here to tie up some loose ends before I go.”
Mira wondered if those loose ends included persuading Izzie to go with her. She had the sudden urge to yank Izzie by the arm and get her out of there so she couldn’t consider the offer again. But she looked calm, and that gave Mira hope that the conversation they’d had yesterday was just that—a talk between two sisters griping about things they didn’t like about their family.
“Vivian Ingram wasn’t too forgiving when I said I couldn’t stay for the whole party,” Zoe explained, “so I promised I’d take some pictures before I go. Plus, I couldn’t leave without saying good-bye and thank you. I really appreciate you letting me stay with you so I could get to know Izzie better.”
“It was our pleasure.” Mira’s mom placed her hand on Izzie’s back. “We hope you’ll come back to visit her often.”
“Yes,” her dad echoed. “Now that you’re a part of Isabelle’s life, I hope you’ll stay a part of it.”
“Of course!” Zoe said, but Mira wasn’t sure she was actually listening. She had just taken her phone out of her bag and was staring at a text message.
Mira looked at her sadly. Not long ago, she thought Zoe had it all together. She even sort of wished she could be like her, traveling the world and doing exactly what she wanted, but looking at the woman standing in front of them, Mira saw Zoe for who she really was: a big talker full of empty promises. Mira didn’t want to be like that. She vowed right then that if she was serious about modeling, she’d have her head shots taken with her own money. They wouldn’t be shot by the famous Zoe Scott, but they might still be good enough to impress Justine and Teen Vogue.
“Can we talk outside before you go?” Izzie asked Zoe. “It’s kind of loud in here.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” her dad asked.
Izzie shook her head. “I’ll be fine.” She looked at Mira. “Tell Brayden I’ll be right back.”
As Izzie walked away, Mira spotted Landon walking through the crowded room looking for her. “I’ll see you guys later,” she told her parents, and headed off to meet him. He looked cute in a top hat and tails, but she was beginning to think she liked his quirky concert Ts and worn jeans better. “You’re really here,” she said, then cursed herself for letting those be the words that served as their introduction.
Landon looked at her strangely. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Mira didn’t want to say what she was really thinking. She’d had to strong-arm every other boy in her life into going to events like this, and she always hated herself later for begging. But Landon was already so different from Kellen and Taylor. While it felt weird jumping from the end of one relationship headfirst into another, there was something about him that she couldn’t pull herself away from. “I just meant, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” He smiled. “I’ve been thinking about our first official date all day.”
The tiny hairs on her arms stood up. Our date. The band started playing this sweet melody that sounded vaguely familiar and the twinkling lights that were strung from every rafter in the tent seemed to dim. She couldn’t imagine a better location for their first date. “So… what do you want to do first?” she asked, suddenly nervous. “Do you want to get something to eat? Dance? I can ask the band to play Taylor Swift.”
He pulled his top hat down so that it sat at a slight angle. “If I knew you were going to bring up Taylor every time I saw you, I never would have let Jillian tell you that,” Landon said, and she laughed. “Just you wait. When I dig up some dirt on you, I’m never going to let you live it down, either.”
He was joking, but the term dig up some dirt immediately made her think of Grayson Reynolds. She was glad there was no press allowed at the Cryst
al Ball. There was an arrivals area for local politicians and the committee members, but once you were inside, the only photographer who might stalk you was the official one for the gala. Maybe that was why her dad had seemed so at ease before the Zoe debacle. She glanced over at them. Her parents had obviously recovered. They were talking animatedly while they danced near the edge of the dance floor.
“Why don’t we start with a dance?” Landon strained to be heard over a trumpet solo. “After four years of fox-trot lessons, I am practically a certified instructor.”
“You took dance lessons, too?” Mira couldn’t believe it.
“Every Saturday.” He grinned. “Isn’t it mandatory in these parts?”
“Pretty much.” She looked at her parents again. They were still alone, which was rare. If there was ever a good time to introduce them to Landon, this was probably it. “As much as I want to see your fox-trot, do you mind if we say hi to my parents first? I promised I’d introduce you.” Landon’s face paled, and Mira instantly worried she’d said the wrong thing. “My dad is not going to swear you into office or anything. I just thought it might be easier if I introduced you before they stormed us on the dance floor.” She rolled her eyes. “If that happens, they may never leave us alone. My parents think they are much cooler than they are.”
Landon still looked uncomfortable. He took her hand, and she felt her body temperature go up another few degrees. “I want to meet them, but there is something I have to tell you first, and I’m not sure you’re going to like it.” His voice took on a serious tone and it scared her. For a moment, she felt like she was standing with Kellen again.
“Let me guess.” Mira looked at him searchingly. “You’re moving to Tahiti next week. You have six weeks to live. You already have a girlfriend.”
Landon gave her a small smile. “It’s nothing that dire, but it’s still something I should have told you weeks ago.”
He was starting to freak her out. What was so earth-shattering that she needed to know right now in the middle of the Crystal Ball? She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. Her mom and dad were looking from her to Landon curiously.
“We saw you with your friend and wanted to say hi,” her mom chirped.
Mira blushed. “Mom, Dad, I want you to meet Landon Archer.”
Her dad shook Landon’s hand. “Archer. Nice to meet you. Have we met before? You look a little familiar.”
“I don’t think so, sir.” Landon sounded slightly nervous. “Although I do remember my parents taking me to see you play when I was a kid. You were incredible. I had a shirt with your number on it and everything.”
Her dad loved baseball talk, so Landon was on the right track. Mira wondered what he had been so worried about.
“Braves fan, huh?” her dad said with apparent satisfaction. “Do you play ball?”
“No, sir,” he said. “I play basketball, but our season at St. Barnard’s ended in February.”
“St. Barnard? Your school has an excellent basketball team from what I’ve heard,” her dad said approvingly. “Didn’t you just finish in first?”
“Wow, how did you know that?” Landon looked amused.
“He follows the high school teams as if he has a stake in them,” Mira’s mom said, taking her husband’s arm. “You’d think he was coaching.”
“What’s wrong with having a hobby?” her dad asked. “I’m so busy these days, I rarely even get in a round of golf anymore. I am envious of you kids.” He stared at the twinkle lights. “The smell of the grass on a spring day, being part of a team and having that camaraderie. Those were great times.”
Mira’s mom winked at Mira. “Maybe I should get your father back on the dance floor before he starts boring Landon with old ball stories.”
“I’d like to hear a few of those,” Landon said, and Mira smiled. This was going better than she could have imagined.
“I’d be happy to share,” her dad said. “Maybe we should have Landon over for dinner one night, Maureen, so he can—”
“Landon?”
At his name, the group turned and stared at a man in a dark brown suit and bowler hat. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a deep frown.
“Grayson.” Mira’s dad’s voice was like steel. “What are you doing here? This is a private party and there is no press allowed this evening.”
Mira couldn’t believe she was staring at the Grayson Reynolds. She always pictured a short, pudgy weasel of a guy with greasy hair, but the only thing that matched her description to this distinguished man in front of her was the hair. His gray hair was slicked back with an oily sheen.
“I am not reporting tonight, Bill,” he said coolly, his eyes never leaving her dad’s face. “I am a guest just like you. In fact, I thought we were both taking the night off from business, but somehow I find you conveniently talking to my son.”
Son? Mira’s legs suddenly felt like jelly. It couldn’t be. Landon’s name was Archer, not Reynolds. But when she looked at Landon, she knew Grayson was telling the truth. Landon was an ashy shade of gray.
“Your son?” Her dad’s voice was thunderous, and he looked from Mira to Landon incredulously. Gone was the warm smile of a few minutes ago. “Mira, did you know?”
“No! Dad, I…” Mira wasn’t sure what to say.
“You used your son to get to my daughter?” her dad accused Grayson. His voice was more irritable than it should be for a public conversation. Mira’s mom tried to calm him down.
“Watch your tone, Bill.” Grayson was equally icy. “You never know what might work its way into tomorrow’s paper.”
Mira felt dizzy. Landon had used her? She was so confused. The band’s trumpet player sounded like he was playing in her right ear, and her dad and Grayson’s argument was in her left. She couldn’t listen anymore. Before anyone could stop her, she broke for the door on the other side of the dance floor. Landon caught up with her before she got too far.
“Mira, wait!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her outside. The air was much cooler, and Mira inhaled deeply as if she had been gasping for air.
Landon looked as upset as she felt, which only made Mira madder. She shoved him as hard as she could, but the move didn’t make much impact. “How could you use me?”
“I didn’t! I like you, Mira.” His dark eyes bore into hers. “That’s why I made up a different last name.” His voice was firm. “If I’d told you who I really was that first day in class, would you have talked to me?” She was quiet. “You probably would have been so mad, you would have dropped the class. I couldn’t let you do that.”
“Why?” Mira’s lower lip was quivering. “Because you had to dig up dirt for your dad?” The words didn’t sound right coming out of her mouth.
“Do you really think I would do something like that?”
As weird as this whole situation was, she knew deep down Landon wouldn’t do that. How could a guy be in a group like Art Equals Love and also be a spy? It didn’t make sense. Her head was pounding. The music had been so loud inside the tent, but it was so much softer now that they were outside. No one was out there but the horses from the carriage rides.
“I liked talking to you,” he said. “You’re funny. And sort of brazen around people like Selma Simmons.” He smiled softly. “I liked that.” She stared at the grass. “My dad being a total sleazebag isn’t my fault, you know. I knew I had to tell you, but every time I tried, I couldn’t do it. I really like you, Mira.”
Mira’s hands were shaking, but she wasn’t cold. She was unnerved. This was wrong. All wrong. She couldn’t like a boy whose dad was trying to destroy her dad’s career and ruin all their lives. She couldn’t. Her parents wouldn’t let her. Once they caught up with her, she knew she was going to get a lecture about how she could never see Landon again. She suspected he was going to get the same one. But when she looked at Landon, she didn’t see how shutting him out of her life was going to work either. “I like you, too,” she whispered.
Then before
she knew what was happening, Landon’s lips somehow found hers and they were kissing. It felt more right than anything she’d done in forever. Afterward, she leaned her head into his chest and held on for dear life, as if any minute their dads were going to appear and tear them apart. “So what do we do now?” she asked. Landon’s answer didn’t make her feel any better.
“I don’t know.” He stroked her hair. “I really don’t know.”
Nineteen
Izzie stood quietly by the Crystal Ball catering tent and watched harried waiters rush past her with the evening’s first course (crab cakes, which smelled darn good). She could still hear the music inside the party playing over the shouts of “table sixteen is missing two apps!” Everyone inside was having a great time while she prepared to say good-bye to an aunt she barely knew. And if that was anyone’s fault, it was Zoe’s.
“You have expressions a lot like your mom, you know that?” Zoe took a seat on a stack of boxes marked linens. “And based on your expression right now, I would guess you’re not coming with me to California.”
Izzie lifted her dress so that it didn’t drag in the grass (it was a rental!), and sat down beside her. “Starting over someplace where no one knows me is tempting, but if I went with you, I think I’d feel like I was running away from Emerald Cove.” She thought of her mom fleeing to North Carolina when things didn’t work out in New York. “I’m not a quitter. This place hasn’t broken me yet, and I’m not going to let it now, even if this election is driving me mad. I like it here,” she admitted as much to herself as to Zoe. “And I love the Monroes. They’re my family. I wouldn’t feel right abandoning them when they’ve been there for me when I needed them the most.”
Zoe’s green eyes looked sad. “I’m your family, too, you know.”
Izzie hadn’t forgotten that. “I still want you to be a part of my life. I just think I’m better off living here.”