Chapter 20

Whitney

Hot trickles of water landed on my skin. I combed my fingers through my blonde locks, ridding it of any traces of the conditioner I used. I rubbed off any more of the slippery formula on my body and stood in silence under the falling water. My breaths were long and relaxed. The steam had blurred the shower doors, and I wiped my palm over an area to clear my view.

I turned the knob and slid the door open. Grabbing the white towel off the rack, I threw my hair front, drying it between my hands then wrapped it around my wet figure.

I was face-to-face with myself in the mirror as dread coursed through me at the remembrance of the dinner reservation with Blair and Stephanie at eight.

When she informed me a week ago about wanting us to meet, I forced it to slip out my mind so I wouldn't find myself stressing over it. When she finally called and scheduled a date, that was when it came rushing back in and hit me like a bulldozer.

Having not decided what to wear yet, I was slightly nervous to face them. I had no doubt they were both going to look totally out of our orbits, and unlike my father, I actually did care what people thought.

Pulling my closet doors open, my eyes navigated for anything that seemed Blair Westwood-worthy. I didn't pay much attention to the clothes I wore, in contrast to Blair who could make anywhere she stepped foot on look like a Parisian photo shoot.

She was known for her sense of fashion. A gorgeous, young woman like her often made others feel insecure of themselves and their social class, including myself sometimes. Girls our age followed her, secretly wanting her seal of approval. I couldn't blame them. Blair's world was filled with wealth and power. People either wanted to be her, or be with her.

A crease begun to form on my forehead while I skimmed through my clothing. I wanted to impress them, of course. I did research on the restaurant we were going to, Plaza Condè, and it was definitely going to be the most expensive one my father and I would ever go to.

I groaned internally of frustration. None of the clothes I owned were formal, or at least good enough to gain the impression I wanted from Blair. They were all rugged and casual, far from the dress code.

I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to come up with an idea until one came. My mother had a rather wealthy upbringing before she met my father. I only hoped that some of her clothes would fit me.

Not wasting time, I ran hurriedly to my parents' room, clinging onto my towel on the way. I rummaged through her drawers until my eyes settled on a satin blue material. Fishing it, my hands lifted to see a gorgeous square neck, cocktail dress that was perfect for the occasion.

"Oh, thank God!" I whispered to myself in relief, grasping the dress close to me.

Proceeding back to my room, a smile lit up my face in excitement. I rarely ever got dolled up to look prim and proper, and tonight was the first time in a while I was going to feel beautiful.

To my surprise, the dress fit perfectly like a glove. It fell just a bit below my knees, the shape elongating my body into appearing taller and slimmer. I paired it with simple black kitten heels, which also belonged to my mother. I had to commend her for her sophisticated taste.

I twisted two sections of my hair into a crown and let the rest fall naturally. My lips were painted a ruby red and a hint of blush on my cheeks. I didn't have much knowledge on makeup and beauty either, so when my face looked presentable, I stopped there in fear of ruining it.

"Ready, babe?" I heard my father call, "The car's already here!"

"Shit!" I rushed to grab a purse, stuffing the lipstick I wore and a bottle perfume. My feet were stumbling, trying to get used to the heels as I yanked my phone off its charger, "Hold on, I'm coming!"

My father was standing by the doorway in his only suit. It was grey and a bit large for his frame, but the Montgomerys hardly ever went to fancy occasions. When his eyes landed on me, they softened.

"Wow, you look beautiful, Whit..." his voice trailed off, "She is a girl after all!" he teased, and my eyes rolled at his comment.

The car Stephanie had sent was a sleek black limousine. My jaw nearly fell on the ground at the sight of it outside our house. The neighbors who were out walked passed by us with wide eyes and surprised faces.

"I know, I was shocked too." I looked at my father with a parted mouth, shutting it once the chauffeur came out to open the door for us.

We got in, and I marveled at the leather seats and luxurious interior. The drive took less than an hour and before I knew it, we were standing in front of Plaza Condè.

"Do you have a reservation, sir?" the man in charge at the entrance asked. My dad nodded, mentioning that we were under the name Harrington. We were immediately escorted inside and I was intimidated by the customers who laid their eyes on us, as if scrutinizing our presence.

It didn't take long until my eyes met Blair's. A blush crept my cheeks in embarrassment and I quickly averted my gaze elsewhere. Stephanie caught sight of us and stood up, greeting my father before me.

"Whitney Montgomery?" my head turned to the familiar voice, only to be connected again with confused green orbs and a beautiful view of her in a red dress.