She passed it over to Lily to look at. “What is it?” Bea whined like the nagging little sister.

“It’s a ball,” Lily said, her nose scrunched in confusion. “A masquerade ball at Versailles, where they dress up in old period costumes and dance all night. Oh, my gosh, talk about cheese. Really?”

“A what?” Bea blurted. “Why? You mean like . . . a real ball? I didn’t even know they had those anymore.”

Now, it was as if she’d announced she wanted to audition for clown school. Diana snatched the phone back. This was not the time to tell them about Stéphane and her dreams that he’d be there after all this time. That was for sure. They’d laugh at her. “I don’t know. It sounds fun. I’d really like to go to it. Just once in my life. That’s all.”

“Oh, my god, Mom!” Lily said in disbelief. “Now you really must be pulling our legs. I mean, how could you even possibly do that? That ball is four days away!”

“I can do it,” Diana said firmly. “I’m sure of it.”

“You can move your stuff out of the house and get it ready to rent? And work is going to be okay with you taking off at the end of the week? For a whole year? You’re really going to jet off like that on them and leave them without properly training your replacement? Really?”

Bea laughed. “Seriously!” she said in agreement.

There they were, ganging up on her again. Her own flesh and blood. She’d always supported them in their dreams . . . was it too much to ask for a little support in hers?

Diana rose to her feet and placed her palms on the table. “Now listen here, girls. I’ve lived my whole live for you. I’ve rearranged my life and my finances for your school trips, your activities, your education . . . I went through the pain of childbirth for you. And now—I’m doing this for me. With or without your approval,” she said, sticking her chin up high. “And you can bet your life . . . even if it kills me . . . I am making it to that ball!”

A long silence prevailed after that monologue. One that seemed to stretch on forever, making Diana wonder if they were even on her side at all. Didn’t they want her to be happy?

“Well, you’re a grown woman,” Bea finally said. “If that’s what you want . . .”

Lily nodded, “Yep. I guess we can’t stop you. And I’m sure you’ll love it there. I know I’ve always wanted to go to Paris too.”

She even managed a smile.

Diana considered that a win. Now, all she had to do was tell her supervisor at work, and soon she’d be free. What could go wrong?

CHAPTER FIVE

“I’m sorry, but have you lost your mind?”

Diana stood in front of Alina Myers, the white-haired beautiful magazine-cover-worthy CEO of Addict. Only thirty herself when she started the corporation, she’d snapped Diana up from Elizabeth Arden as her right-hand girl when the brand was only a fledgling operation with one small warehouse in Cranbury, New Jersey. After all these years, Diana had come to see her not only as a mentor but as a friend.