FRANCESCA
My eyeliner wings out, creating a sweeping, exotic look. It’s dark navy, like my eye shadow. My dress is bold and modern, a gift from Cece. Knee length and cut tightly, the cream fabric is covered in lace and small beads. It accentuates my baby bump. In the past few days, it’s become obvious. Or maybe I’m just into showing it off.
I turn my body from side to side in the mirror. “Looking good, little Frances,” I whisper.
“I heard that!” Cece yells from the den.
“What happened to Cecelia Ivy?” Brogan bellows.
“Just thinking out loud,” I yell back.
My hair is stick straight and long as it frames my face. I slip on four-inch clear stilettos and march out to the den.
Cece gasps. “Oh, Fran, you look so gorgeous.”
I blush. “The baby makes my hair shiny, yeah?”
She gives me a hug, careful not to mess with our dresses. “It’s more than that. Since you met the Russos, you’ve been radiant. You found your family.”
“You and Brogan and Darden are family. They are the cherry on top.” I smile.
She pouts. “I’m happy for you, but what if I don’t like these girls? Are they prettier than me?”
I snort. “Just be sweet to them tonight.”
“I’m already jealous. I want a sexy Italian name.”
I kiss her nose. “You’re the prettiest girl in Manhattan, boo bunny.”
“I know, right?” She simpers. “I wish Darden was coming.”
I nod. “He’s found a show on the nature channel he didn’t want to miss, something about a harpy eagle.”
Brogan takes some pics of us with his phone, then heads out to Decadence. Herman buzzes up to let us know that our limo has arrived.
We get inside with Gianna and Valentina, who greet Cece warmly. Our DNA tests, again in twenty-four hours, came back yesterday. I’m officially a Russo. The limo gets into traffic and heads to the gallery in Brooklyn near the Greenpoint waterfront.
The line outside the gallery is long but moves fast. A red carpet has been laid out from the entrance. Cece tells me to be careful to stay on the carpet. She’s spied black ice and is worried about my heels.
We move into the three-story converted warehouse. The first floor has been set up to allow for large groups to congregate. A quartet plays string instruments in the back, there’s several bar areas, and servers carry trays of champagne and finger foods.
It’s a throng of people, and the Russo sisters introduce me as their cousin. An hour after we arrived, we finally head up to the second floor. We’re on the stairs when my cell pings. I pull it out of my navy clutch. It’s Jasper.
Where are ya? We’re here at this dumb gallery. Darden told us where to find you.
Him and Tuck? My heart skips. I type out our location, then stuff my phone away. I don’t want to get my hopes up. Jasper might be with Courtney.
We meander through the second floor, then head to the third, where Levi’s exhibit is.
Levi looks up from a group of women, smiles at us, and walks our way. He’s dressed in a crisp dark-gray suit paired with a matching tie. I introduce him around but don’t include him in the news that I’m their cousin.
He leads us to his display.
“Oh.” My hand drops from Cece’s as I take it in.
“It’s as if the statue is alive, isn’t it?” Levi murmurs to me. “As if you’re really there.”
“Me?” I frown at a female nude in white marble. Life size, her body lies on a bed as she gazes up. A single tear rests on her cheek. Ghostly white hair frames her heart-shaped face. She looks heartbroken.