To Brie or Not to Brie Read Online Free Page A

the dresses, sweetheart?”
     I glanced at Freckles, who waved off any insecurity about hearing an opinion.
    “They’re a little girlie.” Amy was our tomboy. Like me, she loved cheese, and like
     my grandmother, she adored singing and acting, but recently she had turned to sports.
     Running, leaping, and jumping encompassed most of thehours of her day, probably because her latest crush—Tyanne’s son—was a jock.
    “You are both stunning.” I gripped their hands. “You should be very proud. Where’s
     Meredith?”
    “With Edy. Over there.” Amy pointed toward a third rattan screen.
    “Edy Delaney?” I whispered to Freckles. Edy was the alterationist at La Chic Boutique.
    “I stole her away from Prudence,” Freckles confided with a guilty giggle. “She said
     Prudence cut her salary by twenty percent. Even a single girl’s got to eat. And she’s
     got talent.”
    Tyanne nudged me. “What’s wrong, sugar? Your nose is all scrunched up. Don’t you like
     Edy?”
    How could I admit, without spurring rumors, that I hadn’t trusted Edy since high school?
     I hated saying anything bad about someone.
    “C’mon,” Tyanne said. “’Fess up.”
    “She’s—”
    “Charlotte.” Meredith stepped from behind the screen and climbed onto a platform in
     front of a three-way mirror. “Look at me.”
    My heart caught in my chest and all thoughts of Edy’s cheating on the tenth-grade
     chemistry test flew out the window because Meredith, my best friend since I could
     remember, reminded me of a Disney princess, right down to her tawny blond hair, which
     was twisted into elegant curls, and her sun-kissed skin, which glowed with ethereal
     hope.
    “Wow,” I said.
    “There she goes again.” Amy punched Clair, who tittered.
    Freckles had designed a satin wedding dress that was breathtakingly dramatic. The
     neckline scooped from shoulder to shoulder, exposing a demure hint of décolletage.
     The bodice fit Meredith’s slim frame like a glove. The skirt, starting from a dropped
     hip line, layered out in tiers upontiers of shimmering white to the floor. A pair of glass slippers wouldn’t have been
     out of place.
    “Edy,” Meredith called. “I think we need to shorten the hem.”
    Edy Delaney emerged from the fitting room. Though tall and long-limbed, at first glance
     she reminded me of a human pincushion. She was clad in signature black—stretchy T-shirt,
     jeans, and boots—and clenched long pearl-studded pins between her teeth. Her short
     hair stuck out with spiky defiance, as if she had poked her finger into a light socket.
     A black pincushion, clinging to her wrist, completed the ensemble. Without saying
     a word of hello, she crouched beside Meredith and gazed at the mirror and back at
     the dress, pinning as needed.
    Tyanne leaned into me. “Why don’t you like her? I mean, besides her
Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
getup and the fact that she towers over you?”
    “You can tell us,” Freckles whispered. “Is it that she cheated back in school?”
    I gaped at the pair of them, both eager for gossip, their mouths hanging open, their
     eyes alert. Had my princessy pal spilled the beans?
    “Meredith didn’t tell me,” Freckles added. “Edy did. I like her. She’s got energy,
     and her Goth style? It’s been drawing in scads of new customers. She’s a novelty.”
     Freckles giggled, as she often did. “I’m not averse to a boom in business.”
    A breeze billowed into the room, kicking up flecks of thread and dust.
    “Someone entered the shop. I’ll be right back.” Freckles headed toward the curtain.
    Before she reached it, Prudence Hart stomped into the stockroom, followed by her equally
     tall and reed-thin pal, Iris Isherwood. Poor Iris. Behind her back, members of the
     Providence Garden Society snickered about her lack of style. She had taken to wearing
     floral dresses at all times.No one was sure if she was advertising her name or her flower business.
    “I found you at last,”