“I know, but Murphy, do it tomorrow or the next day. Play the heartbroken girlfriend who can’t take a half-dead boyfriend anymore.
“The point of the matter is, if you tell them now, it’ll be all anyone can talk about, and Mistress Hyde will find out. This is the worst possible time to back out. You took gifts from them—”
“I’ll give them back. I wasn’t planning on keeping them anyway.”
“Murphy, this is what you wanted,” she reminded her. “You wanted to be part of the in crowd. Wanted to show everyone you belonged.”
Murphy fell back against her bed, completely deflated. “I know, but I take it back. I don’t think I can do this.”
Emmaline gave her a half-hearted smile. “Well, we are going to embrace it now, and you are going to have the time of your life at that party.”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to because otherwise what is Ralph going to do?”
“Ralph? Like Ralph from your dream team Ralph?” Murphy was so confused. What did he have to do with if she went to the party or not?
Emmaline pushed out a breath. “I guess this is as good time as any to tell you.” She set her computer on her dresser and stood back, hands on hips.
Murphy tilted her head at the computer, one eye opened. “Tell me what?”
“I was going to surprise you tomorrow, but what the heck.”
“Emmaline!” Murphy had grabbed either side of her computer as if this would compel her friend to spit it out. “What?”
Her friend was enjoying the suspense, mouth curled up in a cat-like smile partially hidden behind her fists. Murphy focused on Emmaline, the anticipation coiling around her.
“Ralph and his team will be there tomorrow afternoon to help you get ready.” The admission finally spilled from Emmaline, grin so big it could have lit the Eiffel Tower.
“The entire team?”
Ralph Levine and his stylists were Emmaline’s beauty team. Whenever her father had some big function in the city, Emmaline would visit Ralph’s studio first. There had been only one time he had made the trip to Iverson. It was the end of Junior year for the spring fling dance—not that Murphy had gone. Well, hadn’t gone as a student. Since it wasn’t considered academia, Murphy wasn’t allowed to go. Instead, she’d donned the black and white uniform of a server.
“Yes. I called him last week and set it up.”
Murphy blinked back the tears welling up. Last week after she told her about the invitation. When they weren’t on the best of speaking terms. “Oh, Emma. You are amazing, but I still don’t have anything to wear.”
“I thought of that too.” She rolled her eyes. “Your dress is arriving…” Emmaline picked up her phone and after a few taps flipped the phone so Murphy could see. “Right on time.”
It took a minute for the image to focus. It was backwards, but it looked like a train schedule and some shipping number. Murphy squinted and tilted her head as if that would help clear and revert the image. “It’s backwards.” She finally gave up.
Emmaline turned the phone back to her. “Right. Your dress is arriving on the noon train from New York. I had it shipped express. I hope you don’t mind that I picked it out.”
“But … how am I supposed to get it? Ralph is coming at noon.” Murphy scanned the train schedules from memory. There was literally no way to meet the noon train and be at Iverson for Ralph. And she’d have to get a ride to the station from the twins anyway. Emmaline interrupted her thoughts.
“Already took care of it. I bribed the twins with a month’s supply of Funyuns and Red Bull. They are all in to pick up your dress.”
Maybe it was because it was so late. Maybe it was from all the excitement and pent up energy of the day, but Murphy’s head was spinning as if she was on a merry-go-round. She didn’t have to live on the same floor as them or have to have multibillionaire parents, but her people loved her for being herself. She shook her head back and forth. “Emmaline, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
Emmaline waved her hand. “Consider it an early birthday present.”
Murphy didn’t do anything to stop the tears from overflowing now. “Thank you so much,” she choked out.
“Just call me your fairy godmother.” Emmaline waved an invisible wand. “Bibbity bobbiddy boo.”
“I love you.” Murphy laughed through her tears. “You truly are the best, and I’m sorry I woke you up so early.”
“What are friends for?” Emmaline’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Now, Murph. Get a good night’s sleep and go knock ‘em dead.”
Chapter Sixteen
Even though Emmaline had taken care of quite literally everything, exhaustion didn’t keep the worried thoughts or excitement at bay long enough for Murphy to sleep well. At the end of the night she probably had slept only two hours. And even those were rough, filled with tossing and turning.
She wasn’t fully asleep when a blaring siren started going off in her ear. She bolted up scrambling for the source of the sound.
Finally finding the phone encased in the sparkly pink case, she swiped to answer and held the phone up to her ear making a mental note that if she was going to keep the phone, the first thing she needed to do was change the terrible ring tone.
“Hello?” She barely got out around the sleep in her voice.
“Are you still sleeping? Sleepyhead.” Eloise’s giggled.
Murphy grabbed the digital clock from her windowsill, squinting to read the numbers displayed. 9:15. She inwardly groaned.
“I—” Murphy heard a protest from Hank and could practically see Eloise rolling her eyes with her next statement.
“Hank and I,” she amended. “Left you a gift in the front hallway on that table thing.”
Murphy pushed her comforter to the bottom of the bed, earning her an irritated meow from Fiona. She gave the cat an apologetic scratch behind the ears, which seemed to satisfy her back to sleep. “What is it?”
“Just go get it.”
Winding her way through the kitchen, dining hall, down the hallway, and into the foyer she spotted something sitting on the table. It was a paper bag with a bakery logo and cup of coffee. The scent of the coffee already tickling her senses. A peek in the bag confirmed what she hoped. Blueberry scone. Her stomach growled.
“Did you find it?” Eloise asked.
“I found it.” Murphy smiled. “Thank you, guys. You should have stayed.”
“We had to get home. We snuck out early knowing that mother wouldn’t have any good food in the house this morning. Saving it all for tonight, and if we tried to break into the kitchen, she would probably have a stroke. We all go hungry on party days.”
Murphy chuckled. “Thanks for thinking of me.”
“You bet. Hank said something about most the staff there being on break this week, so we didn’t want you going hungry either.”
She felt her stomach drop. That staff included her. She squared her shoulders. Nope, today she wasn’t going to feel bad about having fun. After getting off the phone with Emmaline the night before, Murphy had decided that, at least for today, she was going to fully embrace being on the in-crowd. She wasn’t going to be pulled or swayed by past decisions. She would own the role of Tripp’s girlfriend. And she refused to think of “what-ifs” with Hank.
“That was sweet,” she said. She took the gifts and turned to go back to her room. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay. Hank said he’d be around about five to pick you up. Unless you’d like to come over earlier to get ready here?” Murphy could hear the hopefulness in Eloise’s suggestion. “Mother has a team coming in to make sure we are perfect.”
“I actually have a team coming here in a few hours to help me get ready.” Murphy had never felt so extra as she did in that moment. She was positively giddy.
“No worries. We’ll see you in a bit!”
The scone was still warm. Not bothering with a plate or fork, Murphy sunk her teeth into the pastry. Her eyes
slid closed. This was the best scone she’d had in her entire life. It practically melted in her mouth. Frowning, she looked at the logo on the bag. This couldn’t have come from Ash Hollow. Murphy would have been at least twenty pounds heavier if scones like this existed in their little town. Laughing, she shook her head. They had driven two towns over. For scones like this, Murphy would have, too.
After inhaling the scone and coffee, Murphy jumped in the shower. She made sure to pile her hair on top of her head under a shower cap with strict instructions from Emmaline not to get it wet. Dressed in her most comfy, holey sweatpants and oversized Harry Potter t-shirt, she made her way upstairs to see if the twins were awake yet. Plans of a quiet morning reading forgotten. She couldn’t concentrate on a story even if she tried. After three rounds of the new and improved Sir Siegfried, Floyd announced it was time for Murphy to be transformed into a real princess. And time for them to head to the station to pick up her dress like the peasants they were. Murphy rolled her eyes. They would never let her live this down. Ever.
As the twins drove down the drive, a white van following a bright red mini cooper drove up the lane. Murphy’s stomach was in knots, making her regret the scone and coffee earlier, no matter how amazing it had been.
She watched Ralph unfold himself out of the small car, recognizing him from the time he’d come to help Emmaline, and wondered why a man that tall would purchase a car that small. Another younger man and two girls tumbled from the van. Ralph stood back, hands on hips, leaned back to look all the way up at Iverson’s tall pillars. Murphy stepped forward, thinking that she should see if they needed any help. The three that had been riding in the van were now pulling stuff out of the back and stacking it on the ground.
“Ah, hello.” Ralph had spotted her.
“Hello. Do they need help with that?” Murphy motioned to the three struggling with pulling a large box out of the back of the van. She couldn’t imagine what it might hold.
Ralph looked behind him as if expecting to see something other than his team unloading the van. “Oh no, they are fine.” He stepped up to where Murphy was standing, sticking his hand out toward Murphy. “I’m Ralph Levine.”
Murphy tentatively took his hand, not missing the concerned up and down that Ralph was giving her. “I’m Murphy Cain.”
“Mm, yes, I was afraid that you might say that.” He turned to the three who were just closing the van doors. “Right this way, chaps! Ms. Murphy, where would you like to set up? Your room perhaps?”
“The kitchen would be better. This way.” Murphy turned to lead them inside before Ralph could see her bright red face. Maybe she should have just used Emmaline’s room, but then again Ralph had been in Emmaline’s room before so that could have been just as suspicious.
He didn’t comment on having to set up in the kitchen. Calling out commands to Jefferson, Madison, and Tara, he moved to man-in-charge. Murphy stood in the middle of the kitchen waiting for instructions. Everything moved around her in motion and she felt completely still.
Madison was the one who finally tossed a robe at Murphy telling her to change into it. It was the silkiest thing Murphy had ever felt. Once changed, Madison plopped her into a chair, both hands and feet soaking in tubs filled with some milky liquid that smelled of roses.
Tara started tugging at her hair as Madison returned. She began by dipping something out of a bowl and spreading it on Murphy’s face. Murphy closed her eyes and let them work their magic.
“Excuse me, Miss Cain.”
Someone was shaking her shoulder. Murphy popped up. Ugh. She had fallen asleep. She reached up to wipe her mouth. Horrors of all horrors she was actually drooling. “I am so sorry.” She spluttered an apology.
Madison, or was it Tara, smiled. “No worries, Miss. We just needed you to sit up a little for this next part.”
Murphy sat up tall in the chair. At some point, Madison and Tara had transformed her hands and feet into soft, dainty things. He nails were expertly painted a deep, practically black, navy color. Murphy absolutely loved it, only slightly concerned that she had slept through both a manicure and pedicure.
Ralph was leaning against the counter an espresso cup clutched between two fingers. Murphy wasn’t sure why everyone sang his praises as thus far he had just barked out instructions and sipped on espresso from a machine he produced from somewhere. Once Madison and Tara were finished with her hands and toes and exfoliating and moisturizing her face, Ralph pushed off the counter and moved across the kitchen like a man on a mission.
He took position behind Murphy, who was now sitting straight with nerves, and began doing what he did best. Bark out orders. Only this time there was brushing, snipping, tugging, and pulling at Murphy’s hair. She was really glad she wasn’t tender headed.
Murphy’s hair was in ridiculously large rollers when Jefferson appeared carrying a light in one hand and a small table in the other. He set them on either side of Murphy.
Ralph went back to sipping on espresso, Tara (Madison?) stood in front of Murphy holding a makeup compact like an artist board.
She hadn’t realized how long getting ready for an event actually took. She was surprised to see that over four hours had lapsed. At some point a garment bag had appeared and was now hanging from one of the cabinets. Curiosity pulled at Murphy, but she stayed rooted to the chair while the team finished up.
Floyd strutted across the kitchen to the refrigerator ignoring the protests of Ralph. He popped a piece of left-over turkey in his mouth, letting the fridge close behind him. Then he proceeded to take his phone out of his back pocket and snapped a picture of Murphy.
“No. No! No photos until the completed masterpiece,” Ralph protested jumping between Floyd and Murphy.
“Ok, ok,” Floyd lifted his hand in surrender, winking at Murphy as he left the kitchen for safety.
Ralph muttered something in French before looking at Murphy, down to his watch, and back at Murphy. “We will finish your hair and then when will help you dress.” He clapped his hands.
Help her dress? Murphy bit the inside of her lip to keep from protesting. It is fine. It is fine. It is fine.
Thirty minutes later, Murphy stood at the top of the stairs out of sight of those waiting below. Ralph had insisted on a grand entrance. Murphy would rather have not, she was still fuming a little that they had cut her out of her tee shirt to save her hair, but Ralph had insisted. The thought of a grand entrance was sending her nerves into overdrive, vibrating through her. She took another glance at herself in the floor to ceiling mirror leaning against the upstairs wall.
She could hardly believe the transformation. She understood the magic of Ralph and his team now. Her hair, usually untamable, fell in soft waves around her face, only a few pieces from one side pulled up and clipped with a diamond studded barrette. Her makeup somehow made her freckles stand out, but instead of taking away from the overall effect, they enhanced everything. She had never before worn lash extensions, but she loved the way they framed her eyes making them look so much bigger. There were four different eye shadows dusting her lids giving her a perfect smoky eye against her cocoa skin.
When Emmaline said that her dress had been express shipped, she hadn’t mentioned that it was from France. The note from Emmaline said that it was an up and coming designer that she had met and fallen in love with. When she saw this particular dress and Murphy had mentioned the ball, everything clicked. Being exactly Murphy’s size had cemented the plan in Emmaline’s head.
The dress was the most gorgeous, deep hunter green color Murphy had ever seen. It sat slightly off her shoulders and hugged her torso before dancing into a heap at her feet. The only thing Murphy hadn’t been sure about were the impossibly high, delicate, gold strappy heels that Jefferson had pulled out of the box accompanying the dress. Murphy felt like she was wobbling on the edge of the highest tower at Iverson, but Ralph would hear none of her excuses. She somehow managed to climb the back stairs and make her way down the hallway to wait for Ralph�
��s signal for her to “float down the stairs” (Ralph’s words, not hers).
“I give you, Ms. Murphy Cain,” Ralph practically shouted from the bottom of the stairs. That apparently was her cue.
Taking one tentative step after another, trying her hardest not to wobble at every movement, Murphy made her way down the stairs. If it wasn’t for the Christmas lights and greenery wrapped around the banister, Murphy would have clutched it like a lifeline. Her gaze moved to the landing where she saw the rest of the team huddled in the corner with giddy smiles on their faces. Floyd and Lloyd both had their camera’s out. From Emmaline’s demand that he ‘hold the phone higher’, Murphy guessed Floyd had video called her in for the big reveal. Lloyd’s phone kept flashing, blinding Murphy and causing Ralph to mutter curses under his breath. Murphy guessed he was three clicks away from jerking the phone out of Lloyd’s hands.
It wasn’t until she saw Hank that she’d realized she had been holding her breath. She breathed out. There seemed to be an invisible cord attaching her together with Hank. You’re supposed to be thinking of Tripp. You’re supposed to be his girl. You can’t be thinking of Hank like this. Oh, wow, this is so messed up.
But it was Hank who was there, and in a tuxedo no less. He looked good waiting at the bottom of the stairs, the beginnings of a grin tugging the corners of his mouth upward. Murphy was sure the sight of him in a tux would never get old.
She had made it a little more than halfway down the stairs before she felt herself slipping. She took one step a little too fast and tried to keep from falling by taking the next two steps at a hop. Which was the wrong choice since the hop caused her heel to catch the inside of her dress. She heard gasps from both Ralph and Emmaline on Floyd’s phone. She felt herself tipping forward and squeezed her eyes closed ready to fall the next four stairs to the bottom.
The crash never came. Instead of falling, Hank had somehow managed to grab her before she hit the ground. Her face pressed up against his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. Safe. She could hear Ralph protesting about rubbing her makeup off, and someone said something about making sure there were no tears in her dress, but it all became white noise. Murphy was certain she never wanted to move from her current spot.
It Happened at Christmas Page 14