Outwardly, I looked like the perfect debutante. My strapless dress was such a pale blue it was almost white. It hugged my figure in all the right places and was heavily beaded with Swarovski crystals so it shimmered with light when I moved. To add to the sparkle, a thin diamond choker glittered around my neck and an exquisite diamond tiara was fixed into my hair.
My outfit was finally complete when I slipped two long white gloves up my arms. They were a last minute addition because apparently tattoos weren’t considered very ladylike.
Finally ready, I met my parents in the grand foyer of our home. My mother was striking in cream and gold with her hair pulled on top of her head in an elegant chignon. For her, it was an important day. As a part of the organizing committee, she had worked tirelessly to ensure the gala would dazzle everyone and she wanted it to be so spectacular that they would hear about it as far afield as Alabama and the Carolinas.
My daddy looked handsome in his suit. It was easy to imagine the handsome young man who had won and then lost the love of his life all those years ago. Our talk had brought us closer which meant the world to me. But it also took me that one step closer to perhaps being able to accept my mother for all her hateful faults.
Closer. Yes. But there was still a long way to go.
Colton arrived and there was no doubt that he looked handsome. When he saw me he whistled.
“Goddamn Miss Montmarte, I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” he said, kissing my hand and oozing charm. He was dressed in his West Point finery and smelled like Southern Blend.
I just smiled sweetly and prayed I would get through the evening’s events without wanting to throw myself off a cliff.
Harper joined us wearing a gorgeous Valentino dress, but much to my mother’s disapproval, had switched her Manolo Blahnik’s for a pair of Converse high-tops. She was lucky our mother was so distracted making my life hell to worry about her youngest child’s fashion rebellion.
We rode with my parents to the venue of the ball, which was at a sprawling plantation just out of town. Cameras flashed. Local media gathered on the gravel driveway. Everywhere you turned there was another stunning girl in a stunning white gown. As we pulled up under the antebellum portico, I felt sick and out of step with everything going on around me.
After posing for a trillions of photos, we left my parents and sister, and joined the rest of the debutantes and escorts in the backrooms of the Grand Oaks Plantation. Cristal champagne circulated on silver platters carried by waiters in white boleros. Diamonds glittered. Silver and gold glinted amongst precious gems. Everywhere you turned, white magnolias and ribbons festooned light fittings, furnishings and timber railings.
I snatched a long flute of champagne from a passing waiter and downed it in seconds.
“Since when do you drink champagne?” Colton asked.
“Since my mother starting making me attend debutante balls,” I said grabbing a second flute of champagne.
“A debutante doesn’t drink like a trucker,” he said, and took the second flute of champagne from me. “
I took it back. “This one does.”
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a very pretty Laurie-Beth Westfield smiling back at me. She out-sparkled the champagne with the sweetest smile I’d ever seen. A friend from school, Laurie-Beth was one of the nicest girls this side of California.
“You made it!” I pulled her into a hug. Laurie-Beth was pure innocence. She loved these sorts of things. She was the good Southern girl that my mama so desperately wanted me to be. And she was so so sweet. Sadly, her daddy had passed away a couple of months earlier, leaving their family devastated. And broke. Unfortunately, that meant they no longer had the money for Laurie-Beth to attend the cotillion ball. There had been a communal call for the committee—the one my mother headed up—to waver the hefty registration fee for Laurie-Beth. It would have been easy for them to do. But my mother had declined. There were certain commitments and traditions to uphold, she had said. Bitch.
Laurie-Beth’s smile faded just a little. “No. I’m just here to wish y’all good luck. You look so pretty.”
Disappointment hit me in the gut. Laurie-Beth should have been the one being presented as a debutante today. Not me. This ridiculous charade meant something to her while it meant nothing to me.
“I’m sorry Laurie-Beth. I know you were looking forward to this.”
She tried to remain upbeat and her smile broadened to mask her own disappointment. “I understand. Truly. It’s okay. Your mama was gracious enough to allow me back here to see y’all before it all starts.”
My mama was mean.
Laurie-Beth took my gloved hands in hers and looked at me with a heart-crushing fondness. If I could have swapped places with her, I would have in an instant.
“You’re the belle of the ball Harlow. The most beautiful girl here.” Her smile was so sweet, it broke my heart. “You make sure you have fun out there. It will be over before you know it.”
Promise? I smiled and nodded. I didn’t tell her that I’d rather be having all my teeth extracted than doing this. Somehow I didn’t think she’d get it.
Bells signaled the start of the proceedings and she squeezed my hands, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek.
As a sudden act of rebellion I pulled the long white gloves off my arms and handed them to her. “Will you do me a favor and take these for me, Laurie-Beth?”
Her pretty eyes rounded at the sight of the tattoo on my wrist. But she didn’t say anything. She just gave me one last appreciative smile and then disappeared into the crowd of debutantes gathering at the top of the staircase, leaving me in a cloud of magnolia scent. I downed the second flute of champagne. It was time to rock n roll.
Colton, who’d been working the room, retuned to my side to escort me towards the lineup of debutantes. He took me by the arm and guided me towards the staircase.
“You know, there is a good chance we belong together,” he said simply.
My head snapped to the side to look at him. “What did you say?”
“Think about it Harlow. You and me. God seems to keep throwing us together.” He smiled, that perfect, perfect smile. “Perhaps we belong together.”
I stalled. Maybe it was the champagne. Or maybe my head had given in to the persistence of my heart. I didn’t know. But suddenly the world around me crumbled away and I was back in California with my back pushed against the wall by Heath’s strong body. I could feel his breath on my neck as he nuzzled me and whispered, “We belong together. You and me. Always. No matter what happens.”
My mind tilted and then snapped. I couldn’t do this anymore. No matter how hard I tried, I was not going to fit in. Because I didn’t belong in Savannah anymore. I belonged back in California.
By the time Colton and I made it to the top of the grand staircase I had made up my mind. I was going home.
The music began and they started to announce the names of the debutantes lined up before us. I looked up at Colton and he could see it in my face. I faltered and his lips formed into a thin line, but he nodded. He understood and I felt bad for him because I knew he hoped we might get back together. He gave me a regretful half-smile.
The Master of Ceremonies called our names but I was rooted to the spot. My mind was elsewhere, busy making plans. Dizzy with thoughts and excitement. Colton’s face softened and he grabbed my arm and thrust it through his.
“Just get through this,” he said. “And then you’ll be free.”
I sucked in a deep breath. I wanted to run. I wanted to take off down that staircase and out the doors and run back to California. And I was going back. I knew that now and I smiled.
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed to him.
“Don’t be.”
We descended the stairs in all our bullshit glory. The ballroom below us was magnificent, decorated in all the excessive debutante splendor you could imagine. Silver cutlery and crystal sparkled and glimmered. Chandeliers were incandescent. Fine china gleamed. Over-the-top flower arrangements adorned tabletops and filled every available space.