"Right, but only if the right Sara Nolles shows up."
Amy reached out and grabbed the card, which was lying next to her on the couch. She made an exaggerated effort of looking at the card while she made faces. I couldn't help laughing as I saw her face contour into many shapes as she pretended to carefully examine the card.
"All I see here is a card addressed to Sara Nolles. Sara Nolles is sitting in front of me. Everything matches up. Now, let's talk about how the rest of the day is going to go.”
I looked at her and saw a sly smile curving her lips. She was on a mission to get me to the ball, and I had lost the battle. I had to concede.
"What is the plan?" I asked, dreading her list of things for me to do before the actual event.
"Hair, nails, makeup. I made appointments for you at the spa."
"But..."
"No buts. It's all on me, Sara. You always take care of me. Please allow me to enjoy spoiling you.” I nodded, unsure how to respond. "Your food is getting cold," Amy reminded me.
I picked up my fork and continued eating my meal. "So, what time is our appointment?" I asked between chewing my food. Before she could answer, my cell phone rang. My first thought was that it was Nick, calling to claim his invitation and pick up his necklace. Or maybe it was his staff, who had just realized their error. Or maybe the real Sara Nolles had appeared at Nick's estate, I'm sure he had one, and was upset about not getting her invitation and gift.
"Are you going to get it?" Amy asked, looking at me and glancing casually at the phone which lay next to me on the table.
"I was going to let it go to voicemail," I said weakly. I read the caller id. "Besides, it's a blocked number. It's probably just a telemarketer and I don't want to deal with that right now."
"Bull shit, sister! You're scared it might be Nick Saunders," she said, laughing. "I'll answer then."
"Heck no," I said, reaching out to keep my phone away from her. But before I could touch the phone, she picked it up. I grunted. This girl was going to be the death of me.
"Hello, Sara Nolles’ phone," Amy said in a professional voice I hadn’t known she possessed. In spite of my fear, I giggled. Whoever was on the other line must think I was this ultra-rich, "elite" girl who had a personal assistant to answer her cell phone.
Whoever was on the other line said something and Amy looked at me, giving me a thumbs up. I raised my hands, shrugging my shoulder.
"Yes, she will be attending," Amy said and winked at me. She sounded so sure of herself I couldn't help but smile.
"Yes, this is Amy, her personal assistant. I'll let her know."
I glanced quizzically at her. So it was someone from the Saunders Empire calling me. And she was my personal assistant? She was setting me up for failure. Now Nick would think I was wealthy when I didn’t have more than a few hundred dollars to my name.
"She will be ready," Amy replied to whatever the other person said. “Yes, I’ll make sure she knows.” After a few more back and forth talks, Amy hung up. "Gosh, girl. If you don't go to this party, I will."
"Why, what did they say?" I acted cool and uninterested, but I was dying to know what the man or woman on the other end had told her. "Was that Nick?"
"So now you want to know? I thought you didn't care about the party or Nick Saunders. And when did he become Nick to you?" She wore that mischievous smile I hated on her face.
"Amy, if you don't tell me what that phone call was about, I will throw you out of my house."
"You mean your tiny studio apartment? If I leave, I'll be leaving with my food," she said and made a show of packing up the unfinished breakfast.
"Amy, come on. I need to know what that was all about."
"Okay. Just promise not to freak out." I nodded. "So Nick Saunders is sending a limo to pick you up at seven this evening."
"No, no. He can't do that."
"What do you mean he can't do that? That's probably what they do for all their guests attending the ball."
"Amy, their guests are the richest folks in this part of the world. I would think they'd all be flying to the ball in their private jets."
"You’re funny. Anyway, the man on the phone was some sort of party planner finalizing things. He wanted to know if you wanted the driver to bring some designer dresses and shoes for you and wanted to know your sizes.”
"What?"
"I told them not to bother. You may be broke, but I'm not letting some asshole think you need his handout dresses. You have a lovely dress and you'll be wearing that tonight. I picked it out and I know it’s perfect.