It's ironic that this song fit this chapter because I wrote this also getting my nails painted on. I'm in my bridesmaid era~

Come on come on, turn the radio on
It's Saturday and it won't be long
Gotta paint my nails, put my high heels on
It's Saturday and it won't be long 'til I

It had been a week since I'd had to reschedule the girls' night at Nebula, and I hadn't had Esme text Edward. Fuck him, he could sit with the hook in his jaw for a while. Maybe the sting would get it through his thick skull that I wasn't the type to be bought and owned - I was earned, a fucking trophy.

My phone was vibrating its little heart out on my bed from Blythe, Kylie, and Corin coordinating outfits. I didn't bother to look because it didn't matter to me what they wore, and they knew I'd dress however I wanted regardless. I only caught a couple glimpses of outfits and poses, each dress or ensemble varying degrees of blackness. Good thing I was wearing white.

The Saint Laurent racerback mini sheath hit just on my upper thighs and had been altered slightly off the rack to be more form-fitting. You couldn't show off a perfect body with a limp rag - a dress had to hug your hips and ass and tits. Cleavage could be present or hidden, but if you were letting the girls out it had to tasteful. There was a definite line between hottie and harlot.

I twisted my hair before hitting it with a small blast of lightweight hairspray, then tousled it. The result was gentle waves, coiling down past my breasts. My earrings were Spanish silver studs, each with a rock of a diamond that were about half the size of a bottlecap. My wrists were left bare so show off the rings on my middle and index fingers. I didn't bother with a necklace since the collar of the dress came up past the hollow of my throat.

I heard the clacking of heels just as I was putting on my own shoes, matte white Prada pumps, and Rosalie appeared in my closet doorway. Red may have been her color, but the deep navy midi and stilettos she had on hit off her hair and eyes so fucking perfect - chef's kiss. She was totally snatched.

"Damn, you clean up nice. Who needs love when you have raw sex appeal?" She gave me a low whistle along with the compliment, so I winked and blew her a kiss.

"You and Emmy matching?"

The answering smile was massive, like she was trying to break her face. Must be nice, but I was still happy for her. Emmett was everything she'd never known to ask for, both gentle and wild, and willing to literally wait on her hand and foot. Emmett worshiped Rose for the goddess she was, and neither of us could've asked for more. Still, I wished it was just girls. Obviously I didn't mind Emmett but he was a big personality, and with a big personality came a gravitational force to match - people just naturally ended up in his orbit. Which meant no one in mine, and I needed that shit tonight, damnit.

"You know it. Are we meeting the girls or picking them up?"

I shook my head, stuffing a compact and lip gloss into my clutch. "Meeting them. James took the night off."

Her ability to pick up on my feelings was seriously uncanny - enough that sometimes I wondered if it was her or Jasper that had the emotional control knob. An arm slipped around my shoulders, squeezing slightly.

"You cool? You seem.. different lately."

While my body leaned into her embrace, relishing the closeness, I still rolled my eyes. "You'd feel all high-key if you had to deal with Masen, too. The dude's a total masochist, I swear."

"Babe. Up the rent or evict him, at least for tonight. We're going to slay."

Turning my face to look at her, I moved my head as if to kiss her cheek - then flicked my tongue out to lick her. She danced away shrieking, bell-like laugh ringing. "You're so fucking gross. Come on!"

Smirking, I followed after her to meet Emmett in the foyer. "I licked, therefore it's mine. Think Em will arm-wrestle me for you?"

Her body twisted around, draping itself over the handrail so her hair cascaded out behind her and a hand went to her head in an exceptionally exaggerated swoon.

"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever." She said in a breathy voice, full of sorrowful pining.

She was quoting Pride & Prejudice - and she thought I was the weirdo. Gently I yanked on a strand of hair, then started down the stairs.

"Come along Mr. Darcy, we have a coach to catch." Her answering laugh bounced off the walls and ceiling, lifting me with it.

Nebula was absolutely popping by the time we rolled up at 11:42. Blythe and Kylie were there, pissed the bouncer wouldn't let them in. Corin was suspiciously absent. Quickly I tapped out a text to her: ETA?

Her answer was quick. Like she'd been watching her phone and knew I'd ask: With Demetri. Sorry Bells! Make it up to you, promise. Love you.

Corin de la Renta's fatal flaw was her attraction to Demetri. She'd met him on vacation in Italy two years ago and immediately went ass over teakettle for the guy. Demetri wasn't necessarily bad, but he gave me the fucking creeps, enough so that at some point I refused to keep letting him hang around. Underneath all of the politeness and gentlemanly shit and charm was something else I could only describe as him being off his rocker.

It wasn't like he was controlling or manipulative in an obvious way, but Corin always ended up doing stupid shit when they were together. I had my own stupid shit to maintain, so I wasn't down with adding his shenanigans into the mix. The only reason I didn't worry is because they were both immortal, and therefore more than capable of taking care of themselves. Plus, Corin's ability helped.

The fact Corin wasn't a de la Renta by any stretch of the imagination didn't really seem to matter. She told people that was her name, and exuded so much unadulterated happiness that almost anyone was more than content to accept the declaration as undisputed truth.

So it was with a lot of things - getting wrote a ticket for blocking traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge so we could take selfies? Or maybe stealing Olivia Palermo's date for NY Fashion Week? Suddenly, the cop or Liv were just so fucking happy they didn't really seem to give a shit anymore. Why I didn't get a superpower like that was anyone's guess, but it was totes unfair.

Corin's drama aside, I had some serious partying to get done. Turning back to Rose and the others, I waved them forward as I started to the front of the line.

We had stopped at Starbucks and Insomnia, so I came armed with Uzi's honey almond milk flat white and an assortment of cookies ranging from red velvet to white chocolate macadamia. Flashing him a sly smile, I held out my peace offerings. I needed him to think I actually wanted a connection with him, cared about what he liked.

My reward was the guy basically drooling all over my Prada shoes while he fell over himself to admit me, Rose, the girls and Emmett. I rolled my eyes as we brushed past. He wouldn't be all desperate and ick if he knew I could bench press him. It was a small consolation prize for having to grovel.

The inside of the club was even more nuts than outside, a swirl of rosé-colored glasses, vodka smiles and champagne courage. Starships was playing over the system, Nikki's voice urging gaggles of girls up and into the mood.

Rose and Emmett beelined for a table, immediately shutting up the server screeching about it being VIP with a wad of hundreds. Money couldn't buy happiness, but it could buy just about everything else.

Kylie and Blythe both slid in next to Rose so they could see Emmett, which left me sitting next to him. His giant hand fell on my head, mussing my hair and making me hiss. He laughed, undaunted by my standoffishness.

"Come on little sister, you need to relaaax." He said, waggling his eyebrows like a villain in vaudeville.

I fished an ice cube out of my water glass the waitress had just dropped off, flicking the water at Rose. I chucked the ice cube at Emmett, which he instinctively caught. Suckaa. Rose snapped her head around, seeing Emmett with the incriminating evidence, and growled.

He jerked his head back and forth between me and Rose, every bit the court jester. I tried to hold in the laughter, honestly, I really did. But he set himself up too good. It came out anyway, too quick and hard for me to catch a breath around the bursting pealing of bells.

A presence over my left shoulder told me the server was back. I was just about to turn around and ask what was taking so long to get our bottle when I realized I recognized this person.

Because my body twisted so violently to glare at him, my hair flew into my face. Roughly swiping out out of the way with my arm, I leveled a withering look at him.

"Who the fuck invited you, Masen?"

He actually smiled, all amused and shit. Holy shit I wanted to hit him. Really really bad.

"Emmett did. What's up, man?"

They fist bumped, apparently suddenly chummy fucking pals.

"And when, pray tell, did you two become friends?"

Em answered now as they were still doing some weirdly complicated ritual involving their hands and elbows. Fucking men.

"At Esme's big to-do. Did you know this guy played college ball at U of M? Total walk on. No idea why he never went pro."

Well that was unexpected. I didn't need to be a mathematician to put two and two together: Edward was smart, because he completed a fucking MBA before he was 21, which is when he was changed. I was so not about to admit I'd finally Googled him, though. His big ass head wouldn't let him walk out the door, which is precisely where he was going.

"Gee, that's neat." I sounded like a total bitch, but the reaction was more knee-jerk than actual hate, happening without me realizing it. "See you later."

Emmett turned to look at me like I'd grown a second head. He knew I had a temper. But mean for the sake of meanness? That had never been me, not to him, and I couldn't even begin to explain to Emmett what was going on inside my head.

"Easy, sis. What's the beef?" His chuckle was easy and light, but I could hear the tension. Somehow he missed Blythe and Rose all glaring at Edward, too. How was I the bad guy here? He'd totally jumped me, which was completely unfair.

At that moment, the DJ segued into Party In The USA. The look of sheer, trembling joy on B's and K's faces was all the prompting I needed. I shrieked in delight, them right after me, and we booked it to the dance floor.

Talk about the great escape; I did not, could not, think about the fact that of course he was exactly where I was at any given point in time anymore. Had maybe befriended Emmett on purpose or - the thought just occurring to me - lied to Emmett. Because of course Edward could read minds and say whatever was convenient and useful at that point in time.

Just to get two minutes with me. I spun, turning away from Edward, so he wouldn't see the stupid, happy grin on my face.