Chapter Fourteen
Dot
“—you’re what now?” Knova’s voice bursts through my phone, half amusement, half alarm.
“I’m going on a date,” I whisper-squeak, gripping the sheet I’ve been trying to wrestle onto the guest bed. “With Camden. A real date. Like, dinner at the Wynn. Tomorrow night.”
There’s a creak, a fizz, and then a long, theatrical sip. “Well, well, well. The teenage crush lives.”
“It’s not—” I flop backward onto the half-made bed.
Bo pokes her head in from the hall, ears perked, clearly concerned for my sanity.
“Okay, fine, maybe it is. But I don’t even know if it’s like, dating-dating.
Maybe it’s just friendly. Maybe I’m misreading everything, and then I’ll ruin everything, and—”
“Dot.” Knova cuts me off, deadpan. “He asked you out to the Wynn. This is not ‘just friendly.’ This is date-date with appetizers and foreplay potential.”
“Oh my God.” I cover my face. “I should cancel. I can’t do this.”
“Nope. You’re not ghosting the man who clearly worships you.”
I let out a strangled sound that could generously be called a laugh. “I don’t even know what to wear.”
Knova snorts. “He’d make heart eyes at you if you were wearing a paper bag. But since the Wynn probably frowns on that, I’m coming over with options.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Of course, I do. You were ready to implode over a bedsheet, and I’m not letting you spiral yourself out of a love story. Is he picking you up at your dad’s?”
“Yeah. Six-ish. Our reservation’s at seven.” I stroke Bo’s silky head, trying to push past the lump in my throat. It’s strange, thinking about getting ready for a date in the same house my mom used to get ready for shows. “Thanks, Knov. Really.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m bringing backup.”
I freeze. “Wait. What backup?”
* * *
In my humble opinion, there is no reason on earth that it should take two hours to get ready to go anywhere.
Knova and her sister-in-law Vivian disagree.
They corner me in my bedroom and lock poor Skinbad and Bo outside.
Occasionally, Bo paws at the door. Skinbad wanders the house, wailing like a tiny naked ghost.
I stopped by the burn unit this morning. Dad’s healing as best he can—still bandaged, still quiet, but alive. That’s enough for now. At least I don’t have to spend my whole evening preoccupied with worrying about him.
“Can I do your hair?” Viv asks. “I have ideas.”
“Sure?” I catch her eye in the mirror. “But we should pick a dress first, right?”
“First things first.” Knova crosses her arms and surveys me like I’m a cut of meat on the butcher block. “Glasses or contacts? Contacts are harder to take off…”
“But make it easier to maneuver in bed,” Viv adds with a wicked smile.
I bite my bottom lip. I like wearing my glasses, and my face never looks right without them, but Viv has a point. She and Knova are so pretty, albeit in very different ways. I decide to outsource all fashion decisions to the two people who actually know what they’re doing.
“What do you suggest?” I ask.
Vivian and Knova both study me, then look at each other. “Contacts,” they say in unison.
Once my contacts are in, they proceed to decide the rest of my outfit, right down to the matching red underwear set Knova bought for me.
I was afraid she’d pick a thong or something equally sexy, but the panties offer me a lot more coverage than anticipated, and the bra is sturdy enough to keep the girls, which are even larger than Viv’s post-pregnancy boobs, under control.
The two of them flutter around me, fairy godmother-style, playing with my hair and brushing on makeup.
People have done this before, especially when Mom wanted to include me in photoshoots or have me on stage for certain performances.
The makeup artists always tried to make me look like someone I’m not.
Even when I looked “pretty,” I never looked like myself.
I don’t want to feel that way tonight, but since I don’t have a better idea, I leave Viv and Knova to it.
Underneath the laughter and teasing, a knot of nerves coils in my stomach.
What if I try this hard and he doesn’t look at me differently?
What if he does, and I don’t know how to handle it?
For years, I’ve been the quiet one in the corner, the girl with the messy bun and oversized hoodie. But tonight… I want to be seen. By him.
My nervous energy must bleed through, though, because Knova eventually steps back. “Everything okay?”
“I’m good.” I force a smile. “Maybe a little anxious about tonight.”
Knova shakes her head at me and gets back to work. “It’s Cam. He adores you. You’re going to have a good time.”
“But this is different than usual. We made plans. This is real.”
“And it’s about time,” Viv says. She’s doing something with a curling iron. Since my back is currently toward the mirror, I’m not sure what she’s up to. There was braiding involved earlier, but the rest is anyone’s guess.
“I’m not so sure about this,” Mira chirps from the makeup tray where she’s currently propped like a glorified lip gloss. “She’s never worn that much shimmer before without crying. Probability of meltdown: 22 percent and rising.”
“What the hell is that thing?” Viv recoils, curling iron still in hand.
“I’m Mira,” my AI says sweetly. “Dot’s assistant-slash-companion-slash-emotional insurance policy. You must be the one who thinks highlighter goes on like frosting.”
“I—” Viv blinks.
“She’s mostly harmless,” I hiss out. “Mostly.”
Mira glows, pulsing in and out. “I’m just saying, if she starts ugly crying, aim a fan at her lashes. Priorities.”
After what feels like an eternity, both of them step back. “I’m done,” Viv says. “What do you think?”
Knova gives a slow nod. Then she shakes her head and reaches for a pallet. “One last thing.” She brushes some sort of shimmery powder across my nose and cheeks. “There we go. Take a look, Dot.”
I rise slowly, half afraid I’ll ruin whatever magic they’ve worked by moving too fast. But when I turn toward the mirror, I freeze.
The woman staring back at me is someone I almost recognize.
The curve of her cheek, the sparkle in her eyes—it’s me, but not the version who hides.
Not the ghost of the girl who kept herself small.
For the first time, I don’t look like my mother’s daughter or anyone’s project.
I just look like Dot. And she’s… beautiful.
Before, having someone give me a “makeover” had meant that they tried to hide the parts of me they didn’t like.
Hips too curvy? Hide them under a baggy dress.
Cheeks too soft? Try to make it look like I have cheekbones.
Are my glasses too frumpy? Hide ‘em under some permed-out hairdo. Knova and our friends have helped out before, but they’ve never given the full treatment like this, and I hope they took notes.
I love this look.
Instead of trying to hide anything, they’ve accentuated the parts of my face that I like best. My eyes, my lips, and my apple cheeks all pop.
Vivian has braided part of my hair away from my face and curled the rest. Between the hairdo and the slight shimmer of the bronzer Knova added at the end, I look fantastic.
More importantly, I look like me.
“You guys…” I begin.
“No tears!” Knova scolds. “Ugh! That thing was right about the ugly cry! Hold ‘em back!”
“But you made me look so nice… I almost see a bit of my mom in there.”
Viv and Knova both dart forward. Knova blows on my cheeks while Viv fans the pages of a nearby novella. I tip my head up and swallow a few times until I’m no longer in danger of ruining my makeup with my emotional weeping.
I’m in the process of pulling on the shoes Viv selected when the doorbell rings. Skinbad and Bo, naturally, lose their damn minds.
“Wait a minute before you come down,” Knova tells me. “You’re making a grand entrance.”
“I’m going to fall down the stairs in these heels,” I mutter.
“No, you won’t.” Viv helps walk me to the landing. “Just watch him as you walk.”
“That seems counterintuitive to not falling,” I point out.
“Deep breaths. You’ve got this.” She releases my hand once I have a firm grip on the banister.
At first, I ignore her advice and watch my feet while holding on for dear life.
Four steps or so down, though, I hear Camden’s intake of breath.
The sound roots me in place. He’s looking at me like he’s never seen me before—like I’m not just the girl who falls asleep in the passenger seat or makes him laugh when he’s grumpy, but someone who could ruin him with a single smile.
His gaze tracks me as I descend, slow and deliberate. The air between us hums. My heart is a wild drumbeat in my throat.
I look up to see him kneeling next to the dogs, with a bouquet held aloft to keep Bo from having a nibble. He’s wearing a suit that I’ve seen before at Venom events, but this time, I allow myself to really look at him. Damn, those thighs. Those shoulders. Everything about him is a full-blown snack.
I do as Viv said and ogle him until I reach the ground floor.
“Wow.” Camden’s gob smacked. “Dot, you look wonderful.”
“So do you,” I tell him.
The compliment should be easy, but my voice shakes. Something shifts behind his eyes—that careful control he always keeps slips, and for a second, I see every unspoken thing between us. My pulse trips over itself.
“You two are adorable.” Knova plucks the bouquet from Camden’s hands. “I’ll put these in water. Now, is it fair to assume that you two won’t be coming back tonight?”
“The dogs…” I begin.
“Will be fine. Viv and I already talked about staying. Grady’s on baby-duty tonight, and my dad already loaned me the spare key Ranger left at his place.” Knova holds up a key from her pocket as evidence. “So off you go, and we’ll see you tomorrow. I promise we won’t trash the place too much.”
Camden extends his arm to me. “Sounds like they thought this through already. Shall we?”