Free The Cinderella Moment by Jennifer Kloester

Lily.
    Angel considered. Surely that was true. After all, her own entry was within hours of being ready and if two identical entries arrived in Paris, Clarissa would be found out. Unless she could sabotage Angel’s entry somehow. It sounded ridiculous, but suppose…
    “Suppose Clarissa could delay my Teen Couture entry so that only hers got to Paris before the competition closed—the House of Vidal would only ever see her entry.”
    “But you’d know.”
    Angel shook her head. “Any entry received after five o’clock this Friday isn’t even opened and nothing’s sent back unless you’ve paid the shipping cost. Clarissa could’ve guessed I wouldn’t do that.”
    “She’s evil!” whispered Lily.
    Angel glowered. “And a thief and a cheat! But she’s also clever, because if I heard nothing I’d just assume I hadn’t made the cut.”
    “But didn’t Clarissa have to send original sketches with her entry? I thought your designs were still in your portfolio?”
    Angel nodded slowly and said, “Clarissa must have sneaked downstairs, photographed my final sketches and put them back. Once she had copies she could easily draw what looked like original drawings.”
    “Could she?” asked Lily incredulously.
    Angel thought of the sketches she’d seen in Clarissa’s room. “There’s nothing very original in her drawings, but she’s a brilliant copyist. In fact, she could probably set up as a very successful forger,” she added bitterly. Angel suddenly remembered the sketchbook she’d found under Clarissa’s bed. The flash of red that had seemed so strangely familiar must have been a drawing of Angel’s cocktail sheath. No wonder Clarissa had leapt at her.
    “I can’t get my head around it,” said Lily. “You really think Clarissa’s ambitious enough to enter the Teen Couture with your designs?”
    Angel nodded.
    “It’s incredible,” said Lily, shaking her head.
    “The only thing I don’t get,” said Angel, “is how the heck did Clarissa know I was entering the Teen Couture?”
    Lily paled. “OMG, it was me,” she groaned. “It was Dad’s birthday dinner—Clarissa kept going on about Miki Merua admiring her designs. Apparently he’d told her she should enter the Teen Couture. He said he’d give her a full-time place in his studio if she made the finals.” Lily scowled. “Then she said that if I was lucky, she’d consider designing my prom dress. So I told her not to bother because my best friend was a brilliant fashion designer and if anyone was going to win the Teen Couture, it’d be her.”
    “Oh, Lily,” whispered Angel.
    “I am so sorry.”
    “It doesn’t matter.” The light of battle gleamed in Angel’s eyes. “Because Clarissa’s not going to get away with it.”
    “Absolutely,” agreed Lily, frisbeeing a Harrington’s lid across the room.
    “I’m taking these.” Angel reached for the clothes scattered on the bed.
    “What the hell is this?”
    Startled, both girls looked up to find Clarissa standing in the doorway, her face contorted with rage. “How dare you let this—this nobody touch my things, Lily!” she shrieked.
    “ Your things!” cried Angel and Lily in unison.
    “You’ve gone too far this time, Angelique! I’m calling Mother.” And before they could stop her, Clarissa was gone.
    Angel ran after her. She caught Clarissa at the top of the stairs and spun her around. “I know what you’re planning, Clarissa, but you won’t get away with it. Those are my designs and I—” Angel's head snapped round.
    Her mother was calling her name, “Angel!” There was a note of panic in Simone’s voice that struck terror in her.
    Looking over the balustrade, Angel’s heart stopped beating. Her mother was leaning against the banister, clutching her side, barely able to stand. Pushing past Clarissa, Angel raced down the stairs and reached the bottom just as Simone collapsed.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Nine
     
     
    The rest of the day passed in a blur.