Page 80 of Just for the Cameras
CHAPTER 16
MAPLE
“You’re a lifesaver,” I sayto Everly, who walks through my door carrying several gowns. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Hey, this is what friends are for—” She stalls and looks around the space. “Umm, what’s going on? An area rug? Throw pillows? Is that a candle?”
I didn’t tell Everly about yesterday, other than that I fractured my wrist. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to know. After last night’s text messages, I’m still trying to process.
I’ve never met anyone so hot and cold in my entire life. There are moments when his stern expression takes a reprieve, and I’m met with a man who has a heart, a kind and caring heart. But then it’s as if he snaps back into a trance and remembers that he’s supposed to be a brooding asshole who makes everyone around him feel like trash.
“Yeah, so Graydon did all of that.”
Everly slowly turns toward me, her brow comically raised. “Uh, care to explain? He bought you throw pillows?”
“And new bedding and a coffee machine, and filled my fridge and cupboards with high-protein food, fruits, and veggies. I have a very balanced diet at the moment, along with some ice cream sandwiches, which was a nice touch.”
“Okay, you need to fill me in on the details while you try on these dresses.”
When I was told I needed a dress for tonight—told several times—Iknew Everly would be my girl. She works for Magical Moments by Maggie, which has a wing of the company called Bridesmaid for Hire where they help brides find extra help for their special day. There are always dresses being moved in and out of their office.
I lift an ice-blue dress and take it into my bedroom, where I undo my robe and change into it, the splint on my hand making things harder. I manage to shimmy into the dress. As I’m trying the dress on, I give her the quick version of what happened yesterday.
I step out into the living room and notice how the dress flares out at my hips, feeling more prom dress than fundraiser gown.
Everly shakes her head. “Yeah, not that one.”
“Can you take a picture of it with my phone? I’ll post the options on stories for Flock and Tackle, and people can decide which one they think I will go with.”
“Ooh, look at you being a social media wizard.” She picks up my phone from the coffee table and gives me a good pose before taking a picture. “Try this one.” She hands me a deep green dress, and I take it back to the bedroom. “So basically he played knight in shining armor yesterday, but then made you feel like shit about it?”
“Basically,” I say as I drape the ice-blue dress on the bed, then slip inside the green halter top. “I need help zipping this one.” I exit the bedroom.
Everly winces. “Yeah, this isn’t great, but we need the picture.” She zips me up, takes a pic, then hands me a red cocktail dress.
“This is a bit short, don’t you think?”
Everly rolls her eyes. “No, and it wouldn’t hurt to flash him those ankles he’s so worried about seeing.”
I chuckle. “Imagine his horror if I showed up in high-water pants and a zoo shirt.”
“After what you just said, he might steal you away and fit you for a dress, then make you feel bad about it later.”
I laugh. “Why does that feel like the most accurate thing ever?”
“Because it is,” she calls out. “At least you got throw pillows out of all of this.”
And they’re actually really nice throw pillows. Soft, fluffy. The man weirdly has nice taste.
I slip on the red dress, the fabric hugging my every curve and hitting me mid-thigh. It’s scandalous, short, and there’s no way I can wear this in public.
I open the door, and Everly’s eyes widen. “Oh my God, that one.”
“Are you crazy?” I shake my head. “There is no way I’m wearing this.”
“Oh yes, you are,” she says. “I refuse to let you wear anything else.”
“Everly, it’s too short, too tight, and I look like I’m about to go out for a night on the town, where I prowl the street corners looking for company.” Leaning in, I whisper, “Company that pays me for certain services.”
