twin.
They both turned to look at her with the biggest eyes ever. âWeâre sorry. We love you, Starr,â they said in unison, their chubby fingers reaching out to her.
She rolled her eyes. She couldnât stay mad at the little crumb-snatchers. Turning around a bit more on her seat, she reached back and squeezed their hands.
They smiled broadly.
Starr could only shake her head as she turned back around to face the front windshield while smoothing the large above-the-knee-length skirt of her asymmetrical, one-shoulder dress. Her cropped leather jacket and Gucci ankle boots gave the dress a youthful, slightly edgy feel.
âYou have reached your destination.â
Starr looked up at the sound of the OnStar GPS. Their Denali pulled up to a huge wrought-iron gated entrance that led to a slightly sloped, brick-paved driveway that fronteda beautifully lit house on the top of a hill. Wow! It took a lot to impress Starr Lester, and this place took her breath away.
Once the gates opened and they cruised up the driveway she saw more and more of the palatial estate that included a helicopter sitting on the concrete pad in the distance. The mansion was the same size of theirs if not bigger.
She couldnât wait to get inside.
As soon as they pulled up in front of the massive brick structure a tuxedo-clad valet opened the passenger door. Starr climbed out with the help of the bodyguards and stood at the bottom step of the veranda.
She liked that her father stepped out of the car to help her mother out. Kinda like, âThis is my woman. I got this.â Plus, the way her mom was looking, Starr couldnât blame him for wanting to be so attentive.
Sasha, an R&B icon, was a triple threat: her voice, her looks and her body. In the body-hugging Givenchy dress she wore, the first talent didnât even matter. She had curves for days. The knee-length hem of the dress emphasized her legs, while the ruffles down the center of the dress emphasized her curves all the more.
Their stylist, FiFi, had done very well. Tasteful jewelry, just the right makeup and her hair in an updo.
My mom is the ish, Starr thought as she watched her mother as she turned to take each of her brothersâ chubby hands in hers.
They walked up the stairs, their bodyguard falling back a respectful distance as the double doors opened. Starr half expected to hear an angelic âaaaaaah.â
She looked past the shoulders of the tuxedo-clad balding white man and his red-haired wife who towered over him by at least a footâmaybe a foot and a half. âWelcome partner,â the man said, shaking Coleâs hand vigorously. âHow does it feel to be the owner of a football team?â
âFeels damn good,â Cole said as her mother and the manâs wife quickly exchanged air kisses.
Starr stiffened as she caught a glimpse of the hem of a pale gold sequined dress coming down the massive staircase leading to the upper levels. As they all moved inside the foyer, Starr kept her eyes trained on the dress. She soon recognized it as Gucciâ¦of course. No one knew Gucci better than herâno one.
Starrâs face tightened and then nearly cracked as Natalee Livingstonâs face appeared. This is her house, Starr thought, through her fake smile as she eyed the tall white teenaged girl with a riot of bright red curls. Game recognizes game, style recognizes style and Starr knew this girl was her equal.
âHi, Starr,â she said, her husky voice seeming incongruous with a teenage girl, just as it did the first time Starr met her.
âStarr, you know Natalee,â Mrs. Livingston said. âYou two should catch up.â
Starr felt a hand lightly massage the stiffness from her thin shoulder. She caught the subtle hint of her motherâs perfume. âYes, especially since Natalee might be attending Pace Academy soon,â Sasha said.
Competition for me at my school? Nooooo! she mentally screamed.
Pace
Penny Hancock
Stendhal
Tess Oliver, Anna Hart
Celia Kyle
F. Paul Wilson
Homer
Jane Lee
Rachel Vincent
Jaycee Clark
James Patterson