“Stella Angelina Stark, let me see.”
Swallowing a sigh, I stepped outside, and her brow smoothed. She nodded. “Yes, the purple.”
“Like I said—”
“Turn! Perfect, and I shouldn’t have to hem it more than an inch.”
“Nana, it’s fashionable to drag the ground. And I’m going to wear my Converse anyway.”
“Not with that slit, you aren’t. Get your stuff and come over to the mirror where we do alterations. I have a pair of shoes that will work with that dress.”
My lip extended in a pout, but I followed her and did what she said. After all, she was the expert in formalwear. She brought me a pair of strappy wedge sandals, and I loved her for remembering I could do a wedge but not a heel. Then she had me stand on the platform for what felt like an hour but couldn’t have been fifteen minutes as she pinned, stepped back, then stepped forward and pinned again.
“Oh, I forgot to mention I need it for Tuesday night.”
“Always the last minute with you, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t get the invitation until Friday.” I put my hands in the pockets of the dress.
“Stop that! It messes with the length. You can play with your pockets on Tuesday.”
I put my hands over my head. Nana indulged in our love language: sighing. “Put your hands at your sides, please.”
I did as I was told, and she added one more pin before declaring the dress ready for hemming. While I was in the makeshift dressing room, she asked, “And how did you get an invitation? Surely nogentlemanwould wait until the last minute.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her Malone was no gentleman, but Nana didn’t need to know about our plans. Besides, he was a gentleman in all the ways that counted.
And who the heck ever said I was a lady?
In the end I settled for, “I haven’t known the gentleman that long.”
“Interesting,” she said as I exited, carefully handing the dress over to her.
“If you must know, he’s the grandson of Lucius Malone.”
One of her eyebrows practically kissed the ceiling. “Oh. Well then. If you marry him, you’ll be back in here a lot. Those Malones have more money than they can count.”
I bit my lip to keep from reminding Nana that I had no intention of marrying anyone ever. It was an old argument, one I was still inclined to agree with, but it wasn’t worth having that argument with someone who made a living from weddings.
Even if she didn’t believe in happily ever after herself.
“Would you like for me to see if I can get you a ticket?” I asked her.
Now her eyes twinkled. “If you get me a ticket, I won’t say a word if you wear Converse under that dress. I’ll even adjust the hem so you can.”
“You’re on,” I said. “Wait. Does that mean I have to put the dress back on so you can change where the hem’s going?”
“Yep.”
Chapter 25
The first thing I did on Monday morning was visit Trista’s attorney. The second? Head over to Salon Blaise.
Unfortunately for me, Salon Blaise was in East Cobb.
While I technically grew up in what should’ve been neutral territory, Marietta, West Cobb was a little more my aesthetic.
In high school, we had to readThe Great Gatsby, and when our teacher talked about how East Egg represented old money and West Egg represented new, I thought to myself, “Well, the more things change, the more they stay the same.”
