Couldn’t Selby put aside her pettiness for one day? Blaire thought. Not about to engage, she instead turned to Kate. “You don’t mind if she calls me that, do you?”

Kate grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Of course not. We were like sisters—are like sisters,” she corrected herself.

“Remember how we used to pretend that we were sisters when we’d go clubbing in college?” Blaire asked her. “And the fake names. Anastasia and . . .”

“Cordelia!” Kate finished, laughing.

Selby rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it was hilarious.”

Blaire thought back to those years. Despite their completely different coloring, people believed them. They’d spent so much time together that they had begun to sound alike. They’d picked up the cadence and tempo of each other’s speech and even had similar laughs.

Before she’d met Kate, Blaire had always wondered what it would be like to grow up in a normal family, to have a mother who cooked breakfast for you, made sure you had a healthy lunch for school, was waiting when you got home to help with homework or just ask how your day had gone. Blaire had been only eight when her mother had left, and she had quickly become the center of her father’s universe. By the time she was in fifth grade, she’d learned how to cook better than her mother ever had, and relished making gourmet meals for her father. After a while, Blaire even liked taking care of herself and of him—it made her feel grown-up and in control. And then it all changed when Enid Turner came along.

Enid was a sales rep in her father’s company who suddenly started coming to their house for weekly dinners. Six months later, her father sat Blaire down with a goofy smile on his face and asked, “How would you like to have a new mother?”

It had taken her only a moment to understand. “If you’re talking about Enid, no, thank you.”

He had taken her hand in his. “You know that I’ve grown quite fond of her.”

“I guess.”

He’d gone on, that stupid smile still on his face. “Well, I’ve asked her to marry me.”

Blaire had shot off the sofa and stood in front of him, tears of fury blurring her vision. “You can’t do this!”

“I thought you’d be happy. You’ll have a mother.”

“Happy? Why would I be happy? She’ll never be my mother!” Blaire’s mother, Shaina, had been beautiful and glamorous, with long red hair and sparkling eyes. Sometimes the two of them would play dress-up. Her mother would pretend to be a big star and Blaire her assistant. She’d promised her that one day they would go to Hollywood together, and even though she’d gone on her own, Blaire believed her mother would come back for her once she got settled.