Young and Beautiful

Chapter One

Hattie Glendale smiled confidently at her best friend, Flo, and pursed her bright red lips. Her chocolaty brown hair tumbled down her back in long, loose curls. Her face was carefully made up with a smattering of fresh pink powder that sparkled under the bathroom lights, and her stylish, boatnecked dress was one of the first of its kind to appear among the Chicago elite. The theme of the party was nautical, and the dress she was wearing had vertical navy blue stripes, carefully chosen to accentuate her long, bronzed legs. She looked young and pretty and beautiful, and she knew it.

Flo, in comparison to her best friend, was by no means a duller star. In fact, some may have said that she shined brighter than her best friend. Her confidence was not the practiced sort, the kind that Hattie had been forced to learn with a private tutor—no, Flo had been born with a self-assured strut, a slightly taunting, withdrawn smile pulling back her rosebud mouth, and an irresistible gait that involved a certain swaying of her hips. She was slender where it was necessary and voluptuous where it mattered, and yet she was the epitome of balance—especially in the glamorous world of Chicago’s bright and beautiful socialites. Her beauty was refreshing in its natural way, and because of that, she did not have to work nearly as hard as Hattie to maintain her social status. This fact Hattie was knowledgeable of, so painfully aware of that sometimes it made her not emerald but purple with envy—and yet she pushed the thoughts away every time, just as she did at that moment, because, as she told herself firmly, Flo Greene was her best friend. Without Flo, she would be a shell of herself.

“Hattie?” Flo said suddenly, breaking her friend’s train of thought.

“Yes, doll?”

“You don’t suppose Julianna Alderman will be here today, do you?”

Hattie sighed. “Flo, you can’t avoid her forever—”

“Oh, yes I can!” Flo said indignantly, stomping her foot in a childish way. Somehow, Hattie noticed, it made her best friend look more attractive than petulant. “She stole my beau, you know that very well—why on Earth would I want to see her face again? I swear to you, I would have had her begging for my mercy by now if it weren’t for the image I have to keep up in society.” She shivered in disgust and turned to her mirror, frowning in the mirror and smoothing a lock of her hair.

Hattie stepped closer to her friend and turned to the mirror as well, securing the long brown lock which had fallen awkwardly in front of her face. She had to tread carefully on this subject, she knew—Flo was very, very sensitive about it. Choosing her words as wisely as she could, she suggested timidly, “Perhaps it wasn’t really Julianna who stole your beau?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Flo asked, crossing her arms and turning to Hattie. “Of course it was Julianna! Unless she recruited one of her followers to capture his attention as well—”

“Flo,” Hattie interrupted. “That’s not what I mean, and you know that perfectly well! Stop avoiding the subject.” She looked over at Flo, who had closed her mouth and was staring at Hattie with her eyebrows drawn together in an unhappy frown. “Good,” she said with satisfaction, and continued. “You know I don’t mean any disrespect, darling, but Laurence wasn’t exactly the trustworthy sort—”

“What are you implying?” Flo demanded, pointing a finger accusingly at her friend. “What are you trying to say, Hattie? That Laurence was the one who caused all of this? That Laurence is at fault? That he’s to blame? Have you gone absolutely, utterly insane?”

“Christ,” Hattie muttered to herself under her breath. She drew herself up taller and decided that this wasn’t the fight she wanted to have now. She’d never liked Laurence, that shady sort of character, and was secretly rather glad that Julianna Alderman was the one hanging on his arm now, not Flo. “Look at the time, dear! We’ve already spent ten minutes in here. We do have to make an appearance, after all.” With that, she spritzed herself with her favorite fragrance, a spicy, seductive perfume that coated the air, and breezed out the door, holding it open and beckoning for her friend to follow her.

She hadn’t expected the headstrong, upset girl to follow her, but Flo did, and together, they stepped out of the restroom’s blinding light and into the dim, intimately lit atmosphere of the party. “Look!” Flo cried gaily before Hattie had a chance to speak. All her worries were gone—as flighty as Flo herself, Hattie thought, but didn’t mention out loud. “What a fantastic party this is!”

In truth, the party was like all the others Hattie and Flo went to on a regular basis. Most were held inside dark, overpriced nightclubs, with sleek dancing floors and plenty of young men to escort them, but several were also held inside the homes of the elite in Chicago. In either case, Hattie had learned what to expect at that point of these parties: polite socializing, avoiding the untouchables, plenty of young men trying to smooth-talk her into just one dance, dresses and makeup of the latest styles, and plenty of fizzy pink champagne to numb her thoughts just a bit. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Thank you so much for reading, lovelies!