—Mabel—
Émile clapped his hands and a woman, likely his assistant, wheeled in a garment rack draped in a protective silk cover. “I spent days creating this timeless piece. It will certainly turn heads tonight.”
My gaze followed Émile’s hand as he unzipped the cover to reveal a floor-length evening gown.
I tried to control it, but my breath hitched anyway. There it was—the gown that would mark my debut.
A deep midnight-blue gown came into view. Its silver beads caught the light like scattered constellations. Its silhouette was regal. A high slit balanced elegance with subtle daring. A modest off-shoulder neckline flowed into sheer sleeves, creating an ethereal finish.
“What do you think?” Émile asked.
I gasped. “It’s perfect.”
Mr. Martins glanced at his watch. “Ms. Parker, there's no
