The Villa

night."
    "He's already seen her naked," Maddy said and had both women turning around to stare at her. She felt her back go up, her brows lower as she prepared for a lecture. Instead she got laughter, and Helen draped an arm around her shoulders. "Let's get a corner booth, then you can give me all the dirt on your father and Pilar I haven't been able to crowbar out of her."
    "I think they did it outside last night. Dad had grass stains on his jeans."
    "Can you be bought?" Pilar demanded.
    Maddy slid into the booth, grinned. "Sure."
    "Let's negotiate." Pilar sat down beside her.
    * * * * *
    She wasn't bored. She was surprised to find herself having fun, not being shushed for wisecracks or expected to sit quietly and behave. It was, she thought, a lot like hanging out with Theo and their father—only different. Good different. And she was smart enough to realize it was the first women's outing she'd ever had. Smart enough to understand Pilar knew it, too.
    She didn't even mind being dragged into the dress shop, or having the conversation turn absolutely and completely to clothes and fabric and color and cut.
    And when she watched Sophia dash in, windblown, flushed, happy, Maddy at not quite fifteen had a revelation. She wouldn't mind being like her, like Sophia Giambelli. She proved, didn't she, that a woman could be smart, really smart, do exactly what she wanted in the world, and how she wanted to do it, and look really amazing at the same time.
    She didn't dress like she was craving attention, but she got it anyway.
    "Tell me you haven't tried on anything yet."
    "No, not yet. I wanted to wait for you. What do you think of this blue silk?"
    "Hmm. A definite maybe. Hi, Maddy. Aunt Helen." She leaned over to kiss Helen's cheek, then let out a quick whoop. "Oh, Mama! Look at this. The lace is fabulous—romantic, elegant. And the color would be perfect on you."
    "It's lovely, but don't you think it's a little young? More for you."
    "No, no. It's for a bride. For you. You have to try it."
    While she studied the dress, Pilar laid a hand on Sophia's shoulder. Sort of absentmindedly, Maddy thought. Just to touch. Her own mother had never touched her absentmindedly, not that she could remember. They'd never had that connection. If they'd had it, she couldn't have left so easily.
    "Try them both," Sophia insisted. "And this rose linen Helen's picked out."
    "If she wasn't in such a rush to hook this guy, she could have something designed. And I could lose ten pounds before I have to wear the matron of honor gown. Do I have time for liposuction?"
    "Oh stop. Okay. I'll start with these three."
    When Pilar went off with the sales assistant to the dressing rooms, Sophia rubbed her hands together. "All right, your turn."
    Surprised, Maddy blinked at her. "This is a grown-up shop."
    "You're as tall as I am, probably about the same size," she added as she studied her target. "Mama's going for soft colors, so we'll stick with that. Though I'd like to put you in jewel tones."
    "I like black," Maddy said for the hell of it.
    "Yes, and you wear it well."
    "I do?"
    "Mmm, but we'll expand your horizons for this particular occasion."
    "I'm not wearing pink." Maddy folded her arms.
    "Aw, and I was imagining a pink organdy," Helen said, "with ruffles and little Mary Janes."
    "What're Mary Janes?"
    "Ouch. I'm old. I'm going over to daywear and sulk."
    "Well, what are they?" Maddy demanded as Sophia went through the selections.
    "Either shoes or pot—or both. I'm not entirely sure. I like this." She pulled out a full-length sleeveless gown in smoky blue.
    "It'd look okay on you."
    "Not for me, for you." Sophia turned, held the dress up in front of Maddy.
    "Me? Really?"
    "Yes, really. I want to see you in it with your hair up. Show off your neck and shoulders."
    "What if I got it cut. My hair, I mean. Short."
    "Hmmm." Lips pursed, Sophia mentally cut and restyled Maddy's straight mop. "Yes, short around the face, a little longer in the back. A few highlights."
    "Streaks?" said Maddy, nearly speechless with joy.
    "Highlights, subtle. Ask your father, and I'll take you to my guy."
    "Why do I have to ask about having my hair cut? It's my hair."
    "Good point. Go try this on. I'll give the salon a call, see if they can fit you in before we head back home." She started to hand Maddy the gown, then stopped. "Oh, Mama."
    "What do you think?" She'd started with the peach, the ivory lace romancing the bodice, the skirt sweeping back into a gentle train.