Free All That Glitters by J. Minter Page A

office, but this title sounds like it was made for you.”
    â€œNo way.”
    â€œYes way,” SBB said. “I’m still picking confetti offmy clothes from the birthday party you threw me. You’re the best party planner I know.”
    â€œThat was a pretty sweet party,” I said, thinking back to the two hundred balloons we’d floated on the pool at the Q hotel in Midtown for SBB’s last birthday. “But I’m not sure I could actually
campaign
for my party planning skills. It sounds a little intense.”
    Before I could argue any further, the front door of our house burst open and in pranced Feb with the wispiest, pixiest-looking girl I’d ever seen. Both of them were dressed entirely in black, and Feb had my Pomeranian, Noodles, cradled in a small tote bag under her arm.
    â€œNoodles!” I practically shrieked. “Thank God—I was wondering where you were!”
    â€œSorry, Flan, I sent you a text when we got back from Cambodia. I had to borrow him for an hour. It’s just so French to port around a little pooch,
n’est-ce pas
?”
    â€œHuh?” SBB and I said at the same time.
    Feb gestured at the bob-headed pixie to her left. “This is Jade Moodswing. This is my sister, Flan, and her actress friend, Sara-Beth Benny.”
    â€œIs pleasure to meet you,” Jade said in a thick French accent. Her mauve-penciled lips were set in a deep frown as she began to move around the room, picking up my mom’s vases, clocks, and candlesticks.She gave everything a very discerning once over. Then, with exquisite ladylike elegance, she took a seat next to me on the couch and crossed one leg over the other like she was in a French spy film from the forties. She took a cigarette out of a slim silver case, looked around, seemed to think better of lighting it in our living room, replaced the cigarette, and sighed heavily, like she just remembered every boy she’d had to break up with since she was seven years old, and it was all too much to handle. I’d never seen someone look so beautiful while brooding before. It was more than a little bit mesmerizing.
    â€œSo what brings you to New York?” I asked her.
    â€œ
Pff.
” Jade puffed a breath of air out of her lips. “Always work. But your sister is helping me plan my fashion show at The Armory Show. In fact—” She looked me up and down in the same way she’d just examined our Nambé candlesticks. Then, without hesitation, she reached forward and ran her thumb along my cheekbones. Normally, I might have jumped back at a virtual stranger doing that, but something about Jade doing it made me feel honored. Even if I had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
    She clapped her hands. “February,” she said, strongly pronouncing the first
r
. “I wonder if we have just found our model?”
    â€œHuh?” Now Feb, SBB, and I all spoke at the same time.
    Jade nodded as if whatever she was talking about had already been decided. “Your sister, she is … how do you say … so fetching, youthful, long-legged.
Très Américaine
.
J’adore
.”
    Suddenly, I heard a low rumbling purr sound. Confused, I looked around for a cat before I realized we didn’t have one—and then I figured out that the sound was coming from Jade. I could feel myself blushing when I said, “Seriously? Me?”
    â€œIt’s not actually the most horrible idea in the world,” Feb said. She whipped out her iPhone, took a picture of me, then passed the phone to Jade, who proceeded to get up off the couch and play paparazzi. After a minute, they drifted out of the room, conferring over the photos.
    To my right, I heard a
hmph!
and looked over to see SBB with her arms crossed over her chest like a pouting three-year-old.
    â€œWhat’s that face?” I asked her, tucking my knees under my chin.
    â€œNothing,” she sniffed, looking at the ceiling.