“He did this on purpose!” I said angrily to my reflection in the mirror. “He’s just trying to fuck with me.”
I picked up one of the dresses and threw it at the wall.
“Keep calm,” I tried to tell myself as I practiced my deep breathing. “You can’t piss Chris off; you need somewhere to live. Gran needs somewhere to live. It’s this or the homeless shelter.”
But it was too much. I refused to be disrespected again by that alpha-hole billionaire.
Face screwed up, I marched across the hall. Cognizant of the fact that Chris liked to lounge around with very little clothes on and I did not need another eyeful of his banana split, I pounded on the door. I finally heard footsteps padding over, and he flung it open.
“Where are your clothes!” I screamed, covering my eyes. Okay, mostly covering—I might have snuck a little peek.
“You were knocking like it was an emergency,” he said, taking the towel slung around his shoulders and wrapping it around his waist. The skimpy towel somehow made him look even more erotic as it sat very low on his hips. I forced my eyes up.
He gave me that slow, lazy smile.
“Nice dress,” he drawled.
Right. I was angry about the dress.
“You did this on purpose.”
“What, make your nipples all hard like that?” he said flippantly, turning to head back into the depths of his bedroom. I followed him.
“You chose super-skimpy dresses to embarrass me.”
Chris turned, his body a perfect sculpture that I longed to photograph, and glanced at me over his shoulder.
“I assure you, I did not spend any of my valuable time ordering dresses. I asked your grandmother to pick out some you would like and in your size.”
I sagged.
“Gran.”
“Hubba hubba!” the parrot squawked from the doorway as Gran poked her head in.
“My apologies, I didn’t realize you kids were having a pre-party boink!”
“No!” Chris and I both shouted at once.
“That is not what’s going on here!” I said, waving my hands.
“Too bad. You look super sexy in that dress!” Gran said, giving me a double thumbs-up. “I’m glad you chose that one. It was my favorite.”
Lord help me.
“Gran, I cannot wear any of these outfits. I’m going to a conservative event.”
“It’s not that conservative,” Chris clarified.
Gran was looking a little too excited to see Chris in his towel and water droplets. I pushed her out of his bedroom and slammed the door shut.
“This is a disaster.”
“You look hotter than smoked salmon!” Gran said. “Now keep those tatas out! Rock what ya got! Here.” She pulled a bottle of perfume out of her pocket and doused me with it.
I coughed and sneezed.
“That will keep him interested!” she said cheerfully.
