Viva Vermont! Read Online Free Page B

really?
    DJ glanced over to where Taylor was making final adjustments on a gorgeous red silky dress. She looked amazing. She notice DJ watching and tossed her a wicked grin, like she knew she looked amazing. DJ gave her two thumbs-up, and Taylor winked.
    Okay, DJ had to wonder. Was it possible that Taylor had planned that whole thing simply to get some more limelight? Oh, not the part where Eliza tripped DJ, or how the two girls got into the subsequent fight … but what about the sweet little escorting of the poor disabled girl down the runway? Did Taylor see her opportunity and snag it? Or was she genuinely trying to be helpful? Who could tell with someone like Taylor? And yet, DJ had been touched by the seeming act of kindness. She wanted to believe that Taylor really cared about her. Who knew that Taylor had it in her?
    â€œDespite some young ladies’ efforts to spoil things today, the fashion show was a total success,” announced Grandmother at dinner that night. “We raised more money than ever before.”
    Everyone at the table clapped, including Eliza’s parents, who had surprised Grandmother by joining them for dinner. DJ had overheard the intense conversation between Grandmother and the cook and housekeeper at the announcement late in the afternoon.
    â€œWe will be dining formally,” she had informed them. “And I expect a delicious six- to seven-course meal.” Well, the end result was calling out for catering service. Still, Clara and Inez were expected to put everything together and serve this meal “with perfection.” DJ couldn’t help but feel sorry for them.
    This dining development came after the wealthy Wiltons spent about an hour “in conference” with Grandmother this afternoon. DJ knew that they were considering pulling Eliza from Carter House, and DJ had actually hoped that it would happen. Perhaps it would help to bring peace to their chaotic household. Because, despite Eliza’s “sweet” smiles and compliments, she seemed to have a real streak of meanness beneath.
    But after their conference, the Wiltons seemed somewhat appeased. How Grandmother had managed to reassure them that she was not running a sloppy establishment was a mystery. But apparently she had.
    â€œDesiree,” Grandmother had said quietly as she caught DJ heading upstairs that afternoon. “Please inform the girls that we are dining formally tonight. I expect them to dress accordingly, and I expect everyone to be on their best behavior.” She frowned at DJ. “Is that perfectly clear?”
    DJ shrugged. “Clear enough. I’ll let them know.”
    Grandmother smiled then, patting her hair as if a single styled hair might possibly be out of place. “Thank you, dear. I am in need of a little rest.”
    So DJ had told the other girls what was up, and, although they had complained, everyone had complied. As they sat around the formally set table, DJ thought they’d all make a good ad for a food and fashion magazine, not that she knew of such a thing. Anyway, Grandmother should be appeased. General Harding had joined them as well, sitting at the opposite end of the table from Grandmother and looking very pleased with himself.
    The turkey bisque soup had barely been served (and to DJ’s relief, this was not tasting like their typical low-fat, low-cholesterol, low-calorie fare), when Eliza’s mother used her butter knife to ding on her crystal glass. The table grew unusually quiet. “Excuse me,” she said politely. “But Eliza has something to say to everyone.”
    Eliza sat up straighter and looked around the table with what seemed a contrite but not completely genuine smile. DJ got the distinct feeling what they were about to hear had been carefully rehearsed.
    â€œI want to apologize to everyone,” she began in her soft, lilting Kentucky drawl. “And particularly to Desiree.” She smiled at DJ now. “I