Chapter 4The following evening, they arrived fashionably late in the crowded and festive grand ballroom of the Ambassador Hotel. Another slinky crimson-colored number hugged Blythe’s curvaceous frame, and she had marginally tamed her wild, flaming red curls by sweeping them upward and fastening them at the back of her head with a bejeweled comb. Despite her better judgment, but surrendering to her friend’s endless badgering, Paige had shunned the conservative slacks, blouse, and jacket she had packed for the reunion, donning one of Blythe’s outfits instead—a skin-tight, black-satin dress with a revealing slit up one side of the skirt and a neckline that plunged lower than she preferred.
“You’ve got the legs and the milk jugs to pull it off, babe,” Blythe had said earlier at the condo when
