Chapter 10 #2
Diesel’s party was the wildest one I’d ever seen, so I can’t wait to see what Fridays are about—or maybe I can.
Maxie finishes twisting my hair into colored Velcro rollers of different sizes. “This will really give it body.”
“Now, let’s pick out an outfit that will make Diesel stand up and take notice.” Marisol digs into the pile.
“Or at least make one part of him stand up and take notice,” Maxie adds.
My heart does a deep dip on her comment, but I stay silent. These women are a force all their own, and I almost feel sorry for Blood and Smoke, but I have a feeling they love every minute of their feisty women.
“Ohhh, this would be perfect on you.” Maxie holds up a black dress with a deep cowl neckline. The kind of neckline I’d have to tape in place unless I want to expose myself.
“No, no,” Marisol argues. “Black is so boring, so last year. This is much better.”
My eyes go wide, and I don’t want to insult Maxie’s choice, but Marisol is right. The dress she holds up is stunning because it’s sexy without being obvious.
I sift the buttery material through my fingers, and I can just feel it hugging my body.
The cobalt blue is dark enough to be sexy yet sophisticated.
The thick ties of the halter top will cover my modest boobs and maybe even make them look bigger, but the standout feature of this dress is the backless design ending at the tailbone.
“This is amazing.” I can’t seem to stop touching this lush fabric until my fingers snag on a tag still attached to the dress.
“This is brand-new.” I’m stating the obvious, but still.
“So?” Marisol shrugs.
“You haven’t even worn it yet.” I fumble with the tag and look closer. “And it’s four thousand dollars.” I drop the tag like it’s on fire and step away from the dress.
Marisol crosses her arms over her chest like I’ve offended her. “I don’t get your point.”
“My point is, all my clothes put together don’t cost four thousand dollars, and there’s no way I’m wearing a brand-new, expensive dress that you haven’t even worn yet.”
“Just put it on.” Marisol shoves the dress at me. “You’ll change your mind.”
“But . . .”
“There’s no sense arguing with her.” Maxie rolls her eyes. “Especially when she’s set on something. Even Smoke can’t get his own way.”
“Fine.” I bundle the dress into my arms and head for the bathroom.
I pull off my sweats and t-shirt then slip the luxurious material over my body and sigh.
It’s like a soft hug. I turn toward the full-length mirror on the back of the door, and my eyes widen.
The halter top adds shape and volume to my modest breasts and curves where I didn’t have any. I turn sideways and like that view too.
I open the bathroom door, and Maxie and Marisol stare at me so intently, I grimace. “Not good? You don’t like it on me?”
“Ohhhh, girl.” Maxie walks around me, taking in every inch. “Forget the dress. The first thing we have to work on is your confidence, ‘cause you are drop-dead fuckin’ gorgeous.”
Marisol appraises me, then nods. “Yup, looks way better on you.”
“How can that even be?” I fling my hand in her direction. “With your figure.”
Marisol cups the underside of her boobs. “Right, and these damn things are too big for a halter top, but your petite frame is perfect.” She spins her index finger around, and I show her the back of the dress. “You have the most beautiful back.”
Maxie points to my shoulders. “Look at how developed her traps are getting. Especially since she doesn’t look like a skeleton anymore.”
I wave my hand over my head. “Standing right here. Can hear every word you’re saying.”
“I’m only saying what’s true,” Maxie defends. “You look fabulous.”
After we all agree, me under somewhat of duress, that I would wear the four-thousand-dollar Versace dress, I take it off and Maxie does my makeup. Subtle except for the smoky eyes to accentuate their hue—her words, not mine. Then Maxie unrolls my hair, fluffing and spraying it into submission.
When they finally allow me to look, I actually gasp. Even before my brother sold me to the highest bidder, I was never a girly girl, but this transformation has flown past my wildest dreams. Just like the night onstage at The Tropics, I’m transformed into another person.
“Wow.” Maxie’s eyes bug out. “You are fire.”
The two women cluster behind me as we all gaze into the mirror. “You guys are the best.” I hug them both.
Marisol holds the hug, but Maxie pulls away. “Here she goes again with the mush.” She flips up her phone. “Enough of this, let’s get ready to knock those men off their feet.”
As they get dressed, my mind shifts to Diesel. Then my heart starts to beat way too fast. Everything Maxie accused me of in the gym is true. My eyes shift in his direction without my permission—Every. Damn. Time.
Even if it’s for only one night, tonight I’d be dressed like a fashion model with everything on display, and I’d have to make a decision.
Would I continue to ignore him and act like I wasn’t attracted to him?
Or would I jump all in, grab what I want, then try to decide if I would betray his trust to save my brother.
Yeah, my life is just a parade of hard decisions and bad choices on top of worse ones, all rolled into one.