29
Avery
Istill felt a little raw after my talk with Blade.
“I feel so guilty. I should have told him from the beginning!”
In the mirror, the reflection of Edward rolled his eyes. He was in his military fatigues, combat boots, and a shirt with gun casing burns and grease on it. He clacked the hair straightener at me.
“Why? Because he’s going to start withholding sex from you, and you’re afraid of a dead bedroom? Oh, right. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. You’re not building a life with him. You’re getting all of us a new house.” He motioned to himself, to Shirley, who was doing my nails, and to Cesario, who was munching on a piece of toast at my feet. “I don’t care if his feelings are hurt. As long as he upholds his end of the bargain, that’s all that matters,” Edward insisted.
“Remember what happened with that football player,” Shirley reminded me as she carefully painted my nails with a candy-apple-red polish. “Don’t become attached to Blade. He’s certainly not attached to you.”
I thought about how he had been concerned that I hadn’t liked the dress. “I don’t know. He doesn’t hate me.”
Edward tapped me lightly with the hair dryer he was using to remove every hint of curl from my frizzy hair. “Eyes on the prize. You’re not doing this for love. You’re doing it for the real estate.”
“I can’t believe I have to wearthat.” I motioned to the dress.
“Don’t worry, Edward’s going to fix you right up!” Shirley said happily. “Your hair is looking very bouncy and Duchess of Cambridge-like.”
“She does have nice hair,” I said with a sigh.
“It’s all extensions,” Edward said as he pulled another section of my hair out to straighten it.
“Ow!” I complained.
“You haven’t been deep conditioning,” he scolded. “And people who don’t take care of their curls get knots.”
“I am giving you a very nice dinner in exchange for this,” I retorted. “You could be a little nicer.”
Edward ignored me and pulled another clip out of his mouth and pinned back the next section of my hair.
“Avery?” Blade called out.
“In here,” I said.
Blade poked his head into the master bathroom.
“We’re the hair and makeup crew,” Edward said dryly. “We charge a thousand dollars an hour.”
Blade nodded absently. “That’s fine. Give Avery the bill so she can send it to my accountants. Do you take credit cards?”
“Yes. I also take weed, food, and blow jobs,” Edward said.
“Stop it!” I hissed, batting at him.
Blade raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll be ready soon,” I told Blade. “I have a car ordered already. We’re riding with your brothers. I let them know as well.”
After dressing, I looked dejectedly at myself.
“Honestly,” Edward said as he fluffed out my hair, “you probably should have gone all out and worn those tacky nineties pumps.”
“Then it really would look like a costume,” Shirley said as she picked a stray hair off my dress. “Now it looks like she’s fashion forward.”
That was a generous overstatement; I did not look fashion forward. My hair and makeup looked great. My hair was bouncy around my shoulders and down my back. It was a far cry from the tangled bun I usually wore my curls in. My shoes, of course, were to die for. That dress though—it flounced just under my knees as I walked into the living room.
