“Maybe I should call the whole thing off.”
“You can’t just leave yourself like this,” Maeve said, gesturing at me. “Besides, there’s no way Beck is just going to let you walk off. He’s a hunter who has you in his sights. He’s not going to let you go until he claims you.”
“Have you been reading werewolf romances again?” I asked her, rolling my eyes.
“There was a special,” she said. “I bought a whole twenty-book box set.”
“Lord.”
Cressida was still talking to Beck when I returned to my desk.
The YOLO part of me wanted to waltz in there and tell him I was buying a dress for our big charity event that evening that Ethel was hosting. But the rational part of me reminded me that if eating a dozen cupcakes at once was a bad idea, Cressida finding out about Beck and my fake relationship/very real sexual tension would be apocalyptic.
The girls were excitedwhen I picked them up from the Svensson Investment offices. If I wasn’t going to give Beck’s cock a workout, then I would at least give his credit card one.
“What kind of dress do you think I should buy?” I asked Enola and Annie.
“We can make you one,” Enola offered. “We have sewing machines.”
“Really…”
I wasn’t sure that was a great idea. This was an important charity party. But Annie and Enola looked so hopeful that I didn’t have the heart to tell them it was a terrible idea. That was what my stepfather had always done to me whenever I had a suggestion. I had hated the humiliation that would flood my brain when he would condescendingly tell me why my ideas were terrible.
“Do we need to go fabric shopping?” I asked as we walked through the Svensson Investment lobby to the front door.
“Nope!” Annie said. “We’re going to make the dress out of curtains.”
Shoot.
Was there a tactful way I could buy a backup dress?
Once we were backat the condo, the two sisters stripped the lacy curtains from Annie’s room and the gauzy ones from Enola’s and threw them in the wash while they took my measurements.
I silently freaked out while they chattered to themselves about the best way to construct the dress.
“It’s likeLittle House on the Prairie,” Annie explained when the fabric had been retrieved from the dryer.
I, too, had gone through aLittle House on the Prairiephase when I was a girl, and I, too, had attempted to make clothes out of curtains. I had of course ended up looking like a homeless woman.
I think I might have something nice in my closet.
I racked my brain. I owned business casual clothes and an ill-advised cocktail dress that I had bought for New Year’s one year when I had decided I was going to go out to party and live a little. I had ended up having my phone stolen and had to hobble two hours uptown to my apartment.
After that, I had decided my most exciting evenings were going to consist of my romance novels and baking.
Could I wear that dress?
While Beck’s sisters were busy cutting up the curtains, I went into my room to look in my closet. The dress had been bought two years ago when I was about a thousand cupcakes lighter.
I put it on—barely. It had long sleeves and a scoop neck in the back along with heavy gold chains to keep the front closed. Though with my boobs, every time I moved, I was in danger of falling out.
What if I wear it over a T-shirt?
Nope. Still looked bad.
I was online shopping for an emergency dress and trying to figure out a way not to hurt Enola and Annie’s feelings when I heard arguing from the living room.
“You can’t wear curtains to a charity ball, especially one your grandmother is hosting,” Beck was scolding when I skidded to a stop into the living room.
