“So, wait, don’t you want me to open your gift?”

“It’s no rush. Besides, your audience awaits you.”

“But I thought you said it had an expiration date.”

“It did, but I think we may have just missed it.”

“Okay silly, suit yourself. I’ll open it later.”

William kissed me on the cheek, turned, and walked out of the apartment. Something was obviously on his mind, but now was not the time to focus on William. It was time to focus on me. My alarm clock sounded again as I closed the door. It was 7:00 and the engagement party started in one hour.

I reached in my closet, pulling out the red Valentino dress Sam had picked out in New York for this very occasion. Slipping into the dress, for the first time I felt like a woman. As silly as that may sound, it was true. Today I was a woman and after tonight, with the whole Moore clan of looky-loos, whisperers, and naysayers, I would finally become a lady. Vindicated. Emancipated. Finally free from the dreaded Moore family curse.

Taking a last-minute check for quality control, I turned off the lights, grabbed my coat and purse, and headed out the door and down the stairs. Perfect, a cab was waiting right on the corner.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Sheraton Inner Harbor, please.”

“Right away.”

After a few minutes we had arrived. I paid the cab driver, popped open the door, and stepped onto the curb. I stood staring at the top of the Sheraton while bright lights glistened from the Inner Harbor waters. I entered the hotel, hopped in the elevator, and headed for the Crystal Ballroom.

After climbing what seemed to be a million floors, the elevator finally stopped. The doors slowly opened to reveal a beautifully adorned room full of family, friends, and a festive jazz band playing all the favorite holiday tunes.

I waltzed into the room like I was the queen of England, waving my right hand ever so slightly. The right hand with, of course, my ten-carat diamond tennis bracelet sparkling in the air. Flashing the diamonds, blinding anyone who would dare to stare. Yes, I had diamonds. Look at all my diamonds, you bunch of nosy, jealous heifers. Past Aunt Daisy I flashed my diamonds.

“Hey, Aunt Daisy.”

“Montana, baby I was trying to—Good Jesus, look at your wrist!” I ran them past her eyes, giving her just enough time to catch a real good stare. “Is them real?”

“They sure is!” More real than that crooked synthetic wig you’ve been wearing for the past thirty years, I thought to myself. Smiling, “All right Aunt Daisy, you be good now!”

I was working the room. Sticking and moving. There was Uncle Clarence from Cleveland. “Hey, Uncle Clarence!”