So, her plan was a little terrifying.
I wanted to get through the night, not perform some weird type of seduction on Dex Ryne.
“This one.” Haley threw a red dress at me. “I promise you’ll survive the night if you wear this.”
I held it up. The neck was low but not indecent—perfectly suitable for an elderly party—and I knew the skirt was knee-length and flirty.
“Fine. What shoes?”
She bent down and searched the few shelves that housed my small shoe collection. “These.” She tossed me a pair of strappy, black heels. “This purse.” A black clutch went flying over her shoulder, and I had to step to the side so she didn’t hit me in the head with it. “And your leather jacket. Perfect. Edgy yet feminine.”
The leather jacket landed on my bed. I dropped the dress on top of it and stepped back. I wasn’t sure. The only time I’d ever been dressed up around him was when I’d had my interview, and that didn’t really count. That was formal, not fancy, and there’s a big difference between those two things.
Haley stared at me. “You’re questioning everything, aren’t you?”
I didn’t need to reply for her to know that I was right.
“Just call and don’t go. You don’t like him, and you’re only going because you were talked into it. Neither of you would have agreed to this otherwise.”
“I know, but his grandpa was kinda sweet. If pushy,” I acquiesced. “But still, sweet.”
“So go with his grandpa.” She snorted. “God, Jamie. This is ridiculous, do you know that?”
“Yes. If I didn’t think it was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, would we?” I dropped my ass onto the bed. “God, the idea of this is painful. I can’t tolerate him for an hour. How am I supposed to pretend to be his date?”
“Can. Cal,” she said. “Cancel. Boom. Easy. “Sorry. My best friend’s hamster died and she needs me tonight.””
“That’s not even remotely believable,” I replied. “I just have to suck it up, don’t I?”
“Suck what up?” My mom asked as she stepped into my bedroom.
“Hi, Mom. I really appreciate you knocking!”
She waved her hand and glanced at the bed. “Oooh. Do you have a date?”
A mischievous grin crossed Haley’s face. “Yeah, with her boss.”
“The sexist guy who didn’t want to hire you?” Mom threw her attention all my way. “How the hell did that happen?”
I explained, begrudgingly, how his grandfather had tricked us into it.
“A man with a plan. I like that. What are you wearing?”
“Ooh!” Haley clapped her hands together. “So, she has the red dress because red is her thing.”
“Absolutely. And it works so well with her coloring.”
“Right. The shoes because they’re to die for.”
“Gorgeous.”
“The clutch because simple is best.”
“Agreed.”
“And the leather jacket to remind him that while she’s beautiful, she’s also one badass bitch and will still stick her stiletto into his balls.”
Mom clapped her hands together the way Haley had just minutes ago. “Perfect. What’s she doing with her hair?”
“Trying her best,” Haley said ruefully.
I touched the frizzy mess that was my hair. Geez. We didn’t all have perfect, straight hair.
Mom sighed and nodded. “I wonder if there’s a home remedy for frizzy hair we have time to make.”
“Ooh! Let’s go and look!”
Just like that, my mom and best friend skipped off without a second of input from me.
“That’s it, guys,” I muttered, picking up one of the—undeniably pretty shoes—and looking at it. “That’s how we battle sexism. We don’t prove them wrong, we show up looking pretty and smile.”
Then, I threw the shoe at the closed door and dropped back onto the bed to stare at my ceiling until they decided it was time to manhandle my hair to their satisfaction.
***
All right. I didn’t have to like it, but the olive oil and avocado mask I’d been made to slather on my hair and sit in for an hour or so had worked.
It wasn’t perfect, but with some a skilled blow dry from Haley and a joint effort at running the straightening iron over my hair—twice—it actually resembled loose waves instead of…a conductor for an electrical current.
And I looked good, too. Haley had nailed the outfit. Not that I’d admitted that, lest she got ideas for the future. If she had even an inch of knowing she’d been right, she’d be rifling through my entire wardrobe by the time I got home.
As for now, I was tugging uncomfortably on the collar of my leather jacket, standing in the middle of my living room. I wanted to pace, but if I did, I knew my feet would kill within the next hour.
I was antsy. I didn’t want Dex to see me like this. I didn’t know why, just that this whole night added a dynamic to our relationship—one there was no place for.
The sound of a car pulling up on the gravel drive outside my house drew my attention out of my head and to outside. I peeked between the blind and looked out.