“That’s not how this is going to go.I won’t be at your beck and call.”She juts out her chin, staring unwaveringly at me.“Anyway, what should I wear?”
“I’ll take care of it.It’s a formal dinner.”It’s the least I can do with less than a week to spare.“Send me your measurements.”
She inhales shakily, her dark pupils flaring.“What?Now I know you’re crazy.Not going to happen.”
A buzzing starts, indicating the elevator doors have been open too long, and I step back, laughing.“I’ll arrange for us to get together before Friday so we can get our history straight.”The doors start to inch closed, and she nods.
“Goodbye, Paige.I’ll take care of the dress.I bet you’re a knockout in most things.”A wicked grin blooms on my lips.“Or nothing at all.”
5
Paige
“What do you think?”My mom holds up a lacy black dress.It’s a classic.
“It’s nice.Kinda has a vintage vibe.”
“Yeah.”Mom drops it on her bed next to the other dresses she’s pulled from her closet.“It’s a knock-off Valentino, but I love it.”
“What?”My fingers trace the intricate pattern of the lace.“It’s fake?”
“I wouldn’t say it like that.It looks exactly like an haute couture evening gown one of the supermodels wore back in the day.”She swings around to face me, resting her head on the doorframe of her closet.“I looked hot in that thing.”
“Olivia Cassidy, you were a poser,” Bas, my teenage brother, says, sauntering into the room with his phone in one hand and a bag of chips in the other.
“I wasn’t.There was nothing false about me and how I looked and felt in that dress.”Mom places a hand on her hip.
He stops in his tracks, and in a rare moment, he actually gives our mother his undivided attention, as fascinated as I am by what she has to say.
“Being fake is being something you’re not.I was true to myself and let’s just say people liked what they saw.”She gives us a naughty smirk and wink, and we groan at what our mother is suggesting.
“Hey, bud.”I pull his ball cap off his head as he’s near me.
“Stop.”He lunges and tackles me to the bed.
“You two.The dresses,” Mom scolds.“And my clothes.I’m packing.”
Mom and Sam, her husband and a celebrated chef, are off to Montreal for two weeks.They are frequent visitors to the fair city.It’s Sam’s hometown and where he has several restaurants.
Bas makes space on the bed, carelessly tossing clothes to the side, obviously here to stay and sure to get in the way.Mom growls but doesn’t say a word to him.
Studying the black dress, I worry my bottom lip.Friday is three days away and I’ve yet to find a dress to wear to dinner with Zach.He’ll be coming over tomorrow with dinner, an update on the landlord situation, and a dress.I’m not sure how I feel about him providing a dress and would feel better if I had my own.As for dinner, I’d rather he not see how the other half lives, or more specifically, me.
The internet can be both a good and bad thing.I looked him up—as well as the Rothwell empire—after our meeting and I was nearly sick to my stomach.
The Rothwells are worth billions.
Yes, billions.
Nan Rothwell lives in Rosedale, the classiest neighborhood in Toronto, where the wealthiest of the wealthy live and while I couldn’t find any details on Zach’s home, there were endless photos of him with actresses, models, and other wealthy women.
No matter what dress my mom finds in the back of her closet, it won’t compare to what his other dates have worn.Let alone what the other guests will be wearing.What have I gotten myself into?I’m way out of my league.
“Did you pack?”Mom looks to Bas with another armload of clothes for her suitcase.
“Uh, I thought you’d do it.”His gaze is fixed on his phone.
Bas is staying with Pippa’s parents, Sin and Colin, while his parents are in Montreal.He wanted to skip school, but with this being his first year of high school and exams coming up, Mom and Sam wouldn’t hear of it.
