The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

“I never thought of that,” Cleo said as they walked out and down the hall. “And it feels right. It’s a good house, Sonya, despite her. It’s a really good house.”

“It’s our house, and it’s their house. A year ago, I might’ve expectedyou to say something like that. But it’s a hell of a surprise that I can say it, and mean it.”

“And that’s why they’re with you, Son, because you say it, and you mean it. Now, go make yourself pretty.”

She could do that. Funny, she thought as she continued to her room, though she’d gotten about three hours’ sleep, she really wasn’t tired.

She wanted an evening, this evening, of—well—food, drink, and fellowship.

She walked through her sitting room to the bedroom. There, under the late afternoon sun, the sea spread outside her windows, the terrace doors.

And there, on the bed, lay a dress she’d bought with her aborted honeymoon in mind. A dress she hadn’t worn since trying it on.

Molly’s choice, she thought, and why not.

She held it up, turned to the mirror.

She didn’t wear pink often, but this color skewed more deep rose. A simple, sleeveless sheath she’d imagined wearing to a romantic dinner. As a bride.

“That would’ve been a mistake. But the dress isn’t. Okay, Molly, nice choice. Thank you.”

She took her time, and as she dealt with her hair, let out a sigh. Time, she determined, to bite the bullet and make an appointment with the local hairstylist. It had been way too long there.

And still many more weeks before she’d travel to Boston for the Ryder presentation.

Which still left time, if she hated what the new stylist did, to correct it.

“Nothing wrong with a little vanity,” she told herself as she zipped up the dress. “And appearances for that presentation matter.”

Clover agreed with “Looking Good.”

Amused, Sonya turned in the mirror. “Yeah, I know I look good. Let’s see if Cleo’s ready.”

Cleo had gone for lightning blue, a little shorter, a little flirtier, and was currently working her hair into a complicated braid.

Her eyes met Sonya’s in the mirror. “I remember when you bought that dress. I talked you into it.”

“I remember. Molly laid it out.”

“Mine, too. She’s got excellent taste. And considering we were both in watch-a-double-feature-and-go-to-bed clothes last night for our strange little party, it’s nice to put on a dress.”

“I’m making a hair appointment tomorrow. In the village.”

Cleo’s hands paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve gotta commit. And if they screw it up, I have time to fix it before the big presentation in Boston.”

“I see your point, but hair adultery’s a big step.”

Sonya nodded solemnly. “The long-distance relationship isn’t going to work out.”

“I’ll support you in your decision. I’m not sure I can be that brave with my multicultural do. Creole, Asian, a hint of Jamaica, a whiff of Brit? You’ve got white girl hair.”

“I do. I’m risking it. Ready?”

Yoda pranced down with them, then danced in front of the entrance doors.

“Time to go out? You come around back when you’re done.” She opened the door for him. “You’ve got company coming, too.”