Glitter Baby (Wynette, Texas #3)(93)

The moment passed, the impression faded, and she turned away. “Just shows what a fabulous dress and good makeup will do.”

Kissy looked disappointed. “You never see yourself.”

“Don’t be silly.” She picked up her purse and dashed downstairs to the limousine. Just before she got in, she looked up at the window and saw Michel and Kissy standing there watching her. She gave them her very cockiest grin. The Glitter Baby was back.

What she hadn’t counted on was Belinda.



Adelaide Abrams slowly dropped her hand from Fleur’s arm and nodded toward the doorway of the Orlani Gallery where Belinda stood wrapped in golden sable, as fragile and beautiful as a butterfly. Fleur fought to control the whirlwind of emotions spinning inside her. She took one deep breath and then another as Belinda approached. Fleur hadn’t seen her mother for six years, and she felt as if she were shattering into a thousand ice-cold pieces.

Belinda extended one hand and pressed the other to the bodice of her dress as if she were touching something hidden there. “People are watching, darling. For appearances, at least.”

“I don’t play to the crowd anymore.” Fleur turned her back and walked away from the scent of Shalimar, from the sight of delicately etched lines, like the veins of an autumn leaf, crinkling the corners of her mother’s blue eyes.

As she made her way across the gallery, she smiled automatically and exchanged a few words here and there with people she recognized. She even managed a short interview with the reporter from Harper’s. But all the time she wondered why it had to happen tonight. How had Belinda known the Glitter Baby would be reappearing?

Kissy and Michel were scheduled to arrive soon. Their appearance was the point of all this, and Belinda’s presence had thrown it all off balance.

“Fleur Savagar?” A young man dressed in black stopped in front of her and held out a long florist’s box. “A delivery for you.”

Adelaide Abrams appeared at her side like magic. “An admirer?”

“I don’t know.” Fleur flipped open the box and pushed aside the nest of tissue paper. Lying beneath were a dozen long-stemmed white roses…She lifted her head and looked across the gallery. She locked eyes with Belinda and slowly pulled one of the roses from the box.

Belinda’s forehead creased and her shoulders drooped. She stared at the white rose, then turned toward the door and fled from the gallery.

Adelaide poked in the box. “There’s no card.”

“I know who they’re from.” Fleur took in the empty doorway.

“His initials wouldn’t happen to be J.K., would they?” Adelaide asked.

Fleur fixed a bright smile on her face. “Secret admirers are meant to be secret. Especially ones who’ve made a career out of protecting their privacy.”

Adelaide gave her a sly wink. “You’re a good girl, Fleur, despite your occasional lapses.”

As Adelaide disappeared, Fleur shoved the rose back into the box. The cloying smell stuck in her nostrils and clung to her throat. Fleur had been expecting something like this ever since Alexi’s phone call. He was letting her know he hadn’t forgotten anything.

She pushed the lid back on and set the box on a bench. She wanted to stuff it in the nearest trash can, but she couldn’t afford to with Adelaide Abrams looking on. Let her think they came from Jake. He was a big boy, and he could take care of himself. She also needed the publicity, and she didn’t have a single qualm about using him as he’d once used her.

She saw Michel and Kissy standing in the doorway. Michel wore a white tuxedo with a black nylon T-shirt. He’d dressed Kissy in a tiny pink and silver version of a prom dress, perfectly proportioned for her size. She clung to his arm, feminine, helpless, lips slightly pursed as if she were ready to expel a breathless boop-boopy-doop.

Fleur took the long way through the crowd, giving everyone time to watch where she was going. When she reached the doorway, she brushed cheeks with them both and whispered in Michel’s ear that Belinda had just left. He gazed at her searchingly. She had no idea what to tell him.

Kissy and Michel’s entrance coupled with Fleur’s greeting had attracted attention, just as she’d planned. Women’s Wear Daily got to them first, and Fleur made the introductions. Both Michel and Kissy performed like champs, bored sophistication on his part, a frothy cloud of pink and silver exuberance on hers. When they had finished with WWD, Harper’s, and Adelaide Abrams, the three of them circulated through the gallery, stopping to chat with everyone they met. She introduced her brother as Michel Savagar instead of Michael Anton. Not long after they’d been reunited, he’d decided to stop hiding under an assumed name. Michel remained aloof and mysterious while Kissy chattered like a magpie, and Fleur directed the conversation exactly where she wanted it.

“Isn’t my brother the most magnificent designer…? My brother designed my gown. I’m glad you like it…My brother is obscenely talented. I’m trying to get him to share his gift, but he’s so stubborn…”

She responded to questions about Kissy’s identity with a smile. “Isn’t she outrageous? So adorable. One of the Charleston Christies. Michel designed her dress, too.”

When they asked what Kissy did for a living, Fleur waved an airy hand. “A little acting, but that’s more a hobby than anything else.”