Athena, who owed him a debt. Was it time for her to pay?

Athena owed it to her sisters, who were hovering around her, to have ignored Edna’s dawn phone call. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of their lives, and Athena would make it that and more. If only Venus weren’t determined to give her another headache.

“I still think the moment Rebecca arrives to tape the segment for Talk of the Town, we should tell her what happened to you at Clayworth’s Secret Closet,” Venus declared for the third time.

Diana rose, quivering in fury, and placed her hands on her narrow hips. Even though Diana stood only five foot one and one half inches in her bare feet and Venus five foot seven in hers, they seemed to be glaring eyeball to eyeball. Sometimes Athena thought Diana’s strong will made her taller when necessary.

“Absolutely not, Venus! I absolutely forbid it!” Diana shouted.

Makayla looked around from where she fussed, perfectly adjusting the heavy velvet drapery to the dressing room, and frowned.

Athena threw her an encouraging smile and stepped between her sisters. “Diana is right. You agreed to the deal I made with Drew for Bertha’s dresses.”

“I know, and I understand why you did it, Athena, but I’ll never understand why Diana continues to work for their stores and, worse, actually defends the Clayworths.” Venus leveled her powerful glare upon their tiny sister, who, as usual, refused to flinch.

“I have my reasons,” Diana retorted, again refusing to discuss her decision not to resign her position as director of window displays and interior decoration for all ten stores.

Wanting to set a good example for Makayla, who obviously couldn’t resist her urge to eavesdrop, Athena adopted her older-sister voice. “Venus, you know as well as I do the Clayworths begged and offered Diana more money than they should have to stay in her position.”

Venus threw a rope of her hair over one shoulder and sniffed with disdain. “Some people are willing to sell their souls to the devil. I can’t believe it of my baby sister.”

“Please!” Diana drawled. “You’d sell your soul for a vintage Kenneth Jay Lane piece.”

“Only if it was signed,” Venus snapped.

“Exactly,” Athena sighed, negotiating for cool-down time. “Venus, you’re a genius with jewelry. Diana is a display genius who can do more with accessories, fabric, and trimmings than anyone in Chicago. Look what she’s done with Pandora’s Box.”

The two rooms reminded Athena of the inside of a velvet jewelry box. This main room, all soft pink and brown, flowed into the smaller one, dominated by a ladies’ art deco vanity table with a triple mirror. A more perfect setting didn’t exist for customers to try on hats or delight in exquisite toilette items. Compacts, crystal perfume bottles, hair receivers, sterling silver and ivory comb-and-brush sets were all perfectly displayed, along with one-of-a-kind purses and hand-sewn gloves.

Venus shrugged. “I love you, Diana, but I’ll never truly understand your decision to stay on there after the unjust way they treated Dad.”

Guilt made Athena look away.

Loving Venus, if you only knew how confused I am about the Clayworths, you wouldn’t understand me, either.

A commotion outside the door swung them all toward it, releasing the little ribbon of tension twisting around them.

Rebecca Covington-Sumner, dazzling in a red Valentino suit, swept in, followed by her cameraman. “Darlings, you all look beautiful, as usual!”

Rebecca blew a kiss to Makayla, who stood timidly by the counter, hugged Venus and Diana, and stepped in front of Athena, staring intently through the tinted glasses.

Athena had the unsettling feeling that the truly wise Rebecca could see right into her eyes and thoughts. Since Dad’s trouble, Rebecca had been even more extraordinarily kind.

“Darling! Why were you in the hospital overnight? No one will talk.”

Athena knew if Rebecca had really probed deeper, someone at the hospital would have gossiped. People always told her everything.

“Just some silly bug.” She squeezed Rebecca’s hands and stepped back to twirl around. Her black dress—Dior New Look, 1940s—swirled around her knees. “See? All better. Today is much too special to miss.”

“Your mother would be so proud,” Rebecca sighed, sharing her sweet smile with all of them.

Diana blinked her long lashes, as if trying to ward off tears.

“No getting weepy. Even happy tears. Or I will, too,” Rebecca scolded gently. “Can’t have all of us with red noses and running mascara on television.” She turned around, surveying the room. “Phil, I want shots of the store, and then I’ll do the interviews before the hordes of customers start pouring in.”

“Here’s hoping,” Venus laughed, glancing lovingly at the table of exquisite vintage costume jewelry and semiprecious jewelry she’d collected.

“Phil, on my cue, please get a shot of those costume pieces on the right and the semiprecious on the left of that table,” Rebecca ordered and adjusted her microphone.

“I’m ready on three,” she said softly. She took a long, deep breath. “One… two… three.” Rebecca looked straight at the camera, and her smile was so warm and welcoming it lit up the store.

No wonder Talk of the Town was such a hit.

“Good morning, darlings! Up and at it this beautiful Chicago spring day. As promised, we are here at the grand opening of Pandora’s Box, the Smith sisters’ fabulous vintage emporium. You all remember this was once the home of LuLu’s at the Belle Kay, until the divine owner, Laurie, won the biggest lotto in history. A longtime family friend of the Smiths, Laurie passed on to them the mantle of providing the most exquisite vintage couture in Chicago. Then off she went for a five-year around-the-world shopping holiday with her handsome husband on their fabulous yacht. When last sighted, they were in Monte Carlo and looked absolutely marvelous. Laurie is planning to send treasures to the Smith sisters from the finest closets in the world. So frequent visits to Pandora’s Box are a must.”

At the barely perceptible flutter of Rebecca’s hand, with its huge five-karat diamond ring, Phil panned to the large, round jewelry table.

“Speaking of treasures, my name is on that simple but sensational necklace with the deep green pools of emeralds. Tell me about this piece, Venus.”

“You have a great eye for the best, Rebecca. It’s a rare, 1952 Christian Dior Paris necklace. Simplistic silhouette, but the green paste emeralds and diamantes set in sterling are captivating. It’s one of the best pieces in the store.” Venus picked it up as if they’d rehearsed.

Pride swelled in Athena’s chest as she watched Venus show off her expertise in jewelry and Diana displayed her first collectable piece, a 1930 white microbeaded purse with a gold frame encrusted with diamantes, and had Makayla model a jaunty little black velvet evening hat. Athena felt their mother beside her and gave silent thanks to her for intuitively knowing each of their passions and guiding them into the fabulous world of vintage fashion, the way Athena now wanted to help Makayla.

The vision of the black velvet gown Athena had seen in a vintage store as a teenager and rushed in to purchase floated into her memory. She loved the low-cut bodice encrusted with jet, the puffy leg-of-mutton sleeves, and, best of all, the graceful train. She remembered finding the finger loop for the train and using it, dancing around the dressing room, feeling like a goddess. Even though it was black, she’d vowed to be married in the dress. Long ago, young and foolish, she’d thought she would wear it for Drew.

Now it hung in her closet at the museum. Never worn, and perhaps it never would be.

The black dress morphed into a vision of her and Drew finding the four exquisite Bertha Palmer gowns crumpled in a huge heap on some thief’s grimy floor.