To Isabella’s great delight, three absolutely gorgeous transgender women did show up at the party, dressed more like Academy Award nominees than princesses. Clem and Isabella couldn’t believe how beautiful these women were.
“Geez,” Clem said, watching them dance as she and Isabella filled their drinks at the bar. “This sort of doubles down on the competition. These women totally kick my ass in the looks department.”
Isabella shook her head. “Not that you have to worry about competition now that you’ve got Sebastian. As for me, well, that’s a whole other story. But honestly, I’d love to get in on some of their beauty secrets, that’s for sure.”
“Like look at that one,” Clem said, pointing to one dressed in a clingy floor-length silver gown that fit like a second skin. “Seriously, no cellulite. If I had that on you’d see every lump. That’s really not fair.”
“Maybe what’s less fair is that they were born in the wrong body,” Bella said. “I don’t envy them that. But I’d guess it is a fairy tale come true for them to show up at the princess’ birthday party dressed as they are without getting any grief for it. I’m happy for them. But now, I vote for getting away from anyone who looks more gorgeous than we do, and let’s go find the gang. PS, Clem, you don’t have any bloody damned cellulite on that perfectly lean body of yours.”
She grabbed Clementine’s hand and started working her way through the crowd. They found Pippa, Topher, Zander, Andi, Adrian, Emma, Caroline, Darcy, Sebastian, and Luca at a large table laughing and joking.
“Well if it isn’t the Bella of the Ball,” Pippa said as she got up to give her friend a hug, eying her figure-hugging outfit. “You look scrumptious.”
“Great bash, Isabella,” Sebastian said, giving up his chair to the party girl. “Clem, you’ve outdone yourself as the party maven of Monaforte.”
“Being that you’ve been back in Monaforte for all of what, three minutes, you’re certainly qualified as the world’s foremost expert,” Topher said, clapping his cousin and good friend on the back. “Sorry, mate. You know I’m just giving you shit. We’re all glad you’re back home where you belong.”
Isabella looked around at her family and friends, pointed her finger at them, and started counting off in twos. “Well, crap,” she said. “Don’t I feel like the biggest loser? I’ve just realized pretty much the whole bloody lot of you are paired off, with the exception of me.”
Zander lifted his hand and pointed his finger toward their littlest brother. “No worries, Bella. We’ve still got young Luca here who’s single. Though that would be sorta weird if you and he ended up together.”
Isabella winced. “Illegal, too. Not to mention creepy. Even though I love my baby brother.” She gave his cheeks a big squeeze.
“That did happen in the monarchies back in the old days,” Andi said, to everyone’s groan. “Seriously. All that inbreeding. Isn’t that how royals got diseases like hemophilia?”
Zander pretended to cut himself. “Ack! I’m bleeding!”
“Oh stop, you goofball,” Andi said, giving him a shove.
“Aw, I wish we had someone for you, Bell,” Pippa said, changing the subject.
“I told her I have half a mind to hook her up with the caterer. He’s gorgeous, smart, and from what I hear bakes a mean cake,” Clementine said.
“Bake me a cake as fast as you can,” Caroline said, pretending to do patty-cake with her friend Emma.
“You guys, stop it!” Isabella said. “This is a party, not a roast! I’m perfectly fine without some random guy. It’s just that now you’re all together, I’ll be the odd man out. Or woman. Whatever.”
“It’s okay, sis. We’ll hire you to watch the dogs at our new place,” Adrian said.
“That’s reassuring, Adrian. I can be the spinster dog lady. Call me anytime.”
The group talked for a while as waiters passed by with trays of appetizers and cocktails.
“Speaking of the baker, here he comes,” Clementine said.
Isabella looked up, but a couple passed in her line of sight and she missed him.
“Don’t call for him, Clem,” she said. “If he comes by, that’s one thing but it would be so awkward for you to single me out to meet him.”
“That’s one way to never find someone,” Clem said. “Be a shrinking wallflower so you never even meet a guy.”
“I think it’s a shrinking violet.”
“Whatever. Just stop shrinking.”
“I’ll work on that.”
~*~
So far, the evening had gone off without a hitch, and Sawyer felt himself almost relax. He’d had a big pep talk with his staff before the party got underway. He was all about making sure his staff was happy, but he also expected a lot from the people he paid so well for their efforts. Sawyer knew he was being demanding but he had a lot riding on this night and it had to run perfectly. If he saw any member of his waitstaff standing idly he made a point of nudging them to clear glasses, napkins, and stray dishes. He wanted everything bussed back to the kitchen before any guest could notice it was littering the place.
And if hot food was stacking up in the kitchen, he wasn’t above taking a tray of hors d’oeuvres out to pass himself. During one of those delivery rounds, he noticed Clementine, who’d hired him for this gig. He wanted to thank her again for bringing him the business, so he approached her table, smiling.
“Sawyer,” she said, waving her hands at him to get his attention. “Come over here. I’ve got someone for you to meet.”
He got distracted when he noticed the stunning sapphire-eyed woman sitting next to her, her wavy, long dark hair softly dusting her bare shoulders, her gorgeous smile brightening up the room when she laughed at something someone at the table said to her. She took his breath away. Just as he reached Clementine and the mystery woman, a waitress accidentally cut past him, causing Sawyer to knock into her tray of Cosmopolitans, which tumbled toward the dark-haired woman.
“Oh, God, I’m so, so sorry,” Sawyer said as he rushed to her, quickly untying his apron to use it to sop up the sticky liquid, much of which seemed to spill right down her cleavage. “Please, let me help,” he said, stammering, his hand dabbing between her breasts before he realized what he was doing and awkwardly tried instead just to hold the fabric near them to mop up the mess.
“Oh, Sawyer, this is no way for you to meet Isabella,” Clementine said. “Bella, not quite as I’d planned, but this is Sawyer, the caterer I told you about.” Clem grabbed a nearby napkin and tried to help but was just getting further in the way.
~*~
Isabella had already been trying to push the man away—bad enough she had sticky cocktails dripping down her boobs, but to have a complete stranger pawing at her, even if he was trying to be helpful, was not what she wanted. But then she looked up at his face, and her annoyance was instantly eclipsed by rage.
“You!” she said, her voice going high and loud. She’d recognize that face anywhere, carved into her memory as it was.
Sawyer’s eyes opened wide, and he pointed at himself. “Me?” he said, a look of confusion on his face.
Isabella looked at Clementine with accusatory eyes. “You mean to tell me this is the man who is catering my birthday party? I’d have been better off if you’d hired Satan.”