Chapter 13 - Saint Denis' Good Society

450 15 6
                                    

I clenched my teeth, letting out groans of discomfort. For hours, the girls had been circling around me, washing me, styling my hair, putting red on my lips and cheeks. In this general excitement, I had no word to say. Afterputting me in a dress, their final touch was to flood me with some heady perfume that made me cough.

"It's an official party, not a saloon. Don't make me look like a working girl.

- Stop complaining, we know what we're doing."

The laughter and comments started again. I let them do, like a rag doll in the hands of little girls. From the stairs, Molly glared at me. She was beautiful, elegant, and refined. She should have been in my place.

---

A few days earlier, I had joined Dutch on his balcony. A cigar on the lips, he looked at me with bright eyes. This expression meant only one thing: a new idea had sprouted in his head. He had been invited by this Angelo Bronte to a reception in Saint-Denis. He knew nothing more, only that it would bring together the best society in the city, the richest. A gold mine at our fingertips. And he wanted me to be part of it.

"You'll hang a revolver on your ankle. Under your dress, nobody will suspect its presence, it could be useful.

- My dress?!

- Did you think you could go dressed like a cowboy? It's the high society of Saint-Denis, not a cattle fair!

-I'm not sure I'm the right person for this mission, Dutch.

-I've already seen you in a dress, believe me, with the one I'm going to give you, you will be perfect. Plus, you have Italian blood and conversation, even if your vocabulary is not the best. This will give a touch of exoticism to which this posh won't resist.

-Molly ticks a lot more of these boxes than I do

-No. I want you."

His black eyes were planted straight into mine. I shivered. Even though he was talking about the mission, no man had ever said such words to me. As if I were indispensable. I nodded before leaving his quarters. I had to trust him, he was the leader for a reason. 

As I went down, I met Arthur, telling him about my new job. He laughed.

"So, you too have been trapped. I'm going to wear a tailcoat, can you believe that?"

--

Here is how that day, I found myself tied up in a corset, clothed in a princess dress and hairs done like a real lady of the world, according to the magazine that had inspired Mary-Beth in her work. They had all been incredibly kind. Not once did I feel their jealousy. I found it unfair that these girls, older in the gang and undeniably more beautiful than me, had no place in this mission. But no one would contest the decisions of our leader.

I was ready, and I was terrified. Looking at myself in a spotted mirror, I kept repeating my mother's words. "Nobody is naturally confident. People force themselves. So do like them and pretend. Pretend to be confident, play the game, and everything will be fine. Quickly, you won't have to pretend anymore."

I took a deep breath and headed for the entrance of the building. Surprisingly, I felt pretty comfortable in this outfit. As if the role I had to play infused in me. With my head straight, I displayed the modest smile so much observed on my sisters' face, well aware of their beauty but knowing perfectly how to make believe the opposite.

Charles helped me get settled in the carriage, the layers of fabric and the elegant shoes depriving me of my usual agility.

"Well, that's a change...

Outlaws - An American Youth - [Charles Smith x OC]Where stories live. Discover now