Crushed Velvet

  “But it was all her idea. Wasn’t it amazing?” Genevieve chimed in.

  “It was very impressive. And the fabric—that was from your store?” Nolene asked. She tipped her head as she posed her question and the earrings that looked like clusters of fruit set off a faint tinkling sound.

  “Yes.”

  “Before you moved here, you worked in a dress shop in Los Angeles, didn’t you?” It was odd to hear my recent history told to me by a stranger. “I’m afraid I’ve read up on your background. I’m the head judge of Miss Tangorli, San Ladrón’s annual beauty pageant. Since you’re new around here, you probably don’t know much about it.”

  “You’re right, I don’t know much about the events of San Ladrón. This is my first time attending the Waverly House’s annual party.” I glanced around me. Genevieve and Charlie had migrated in separate directions: Genevieve toward the gardens, and Charlie toward a strange man who stood alone a few feet from the tea and juice station outside. He had a white ponytail and black leather blazer over a black turtleneck and black trousers.

  “Rumor has it there wouldn’t have been a party if it wasn’t for you.” Nolene winked. “But I’m not here to spread rumors. I’m here to find judges. I’ve locked in two so far.”

  Immediately I felt awkward. “I don’t think I’d be qualified to judge a beauty pageant.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I have something else in mind for you.

  Looking for more?

  Visit Penguin.com for more about this author and a complete list of their books.

  Discover your next great read!