“Fine. But I’m right about the hair—down and wavy. Banks won’t know what hit him.”
There’s a small gasp. “You look like princesses!”
We all turn. Maisie is standing in the doorway, dressed in dinosaur pajamas despite it being nearly five o’clock. She’s been wandering in and out all afternoon, fascinated by the transformation happening in the guest room.
“Thank you, Maze.” I smile at her. “That might be the best compliment I’ve ever received.”
“Tori’s hair is very shiny,” she adds, studying her future stepmother with serious eyes. “And your eyes look like a raccoon. But pretty.”
“Smoky eye,” Margot explains. “It’s supposed to look like that.”
“Oh.” Maisie considers this. “Okay. Pretty raccoon.”
Tori laughs and opens her arms. “Come here, you little monster.”
Maisie bounces onto the bed, careful not to disturb Tori’s dress laid out beside her. “Hannah is making me mac and cheese for dinner. The good kind, from the box.”
“Lucky you. We have to eat tiny food on tiny plates and pretend we’re not starving.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It is. That’s why we’re drinking champagne.”
“Can I have champagne?”
“When you’re thirty.”
Maisie sighs dramatically—she’s definitely picked that up from Tori—and slides off the bed. “I’m going to tell Daddy you look like princesses too.”
She stomps off down the hall, her T-Rex slippers roaring with each step.
“She’s incredible,” I say.
“She’s a handful.” But Tori’s smiling, that soft smile she gets whenever Maisie’s involved. “But yeah, she is pretty great.” Her eyes drift to my makeup. “Okay, Margot. Make her so beautiful that Banks forgets how to speak. Shouldn’t be hard—he barely speaks anyway.”
Margot laughs and reaches for another brush. “Let’s finish these eyes.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m staring at my reflection, and for a moment, I don’t recognize myself.
My hair falls in loose golden waves over my shoulders, soft and touchable. My makeup is subtle yet polished—smoky eyes that make the blue pop, nude lips, and bronzed cheekbones. I look elegant. Sophisticated.
I look beautiful.
“Holy shit,” Tori breathes, appearing behind me in the mirror. “Banks is going to be so far out of his element, it’s not even funny.”
The dress hangs on the back of the door. Emerald green, floor-length, with delicate straps and a low back that reveals just enough skin to beinteresting. When Tori pulled it off the rack during our shopping trip, I had laughed—too fancy, too expensive, too much.
Then I tried it on.
The fabric skimmed my curves like it was made for me. The color turned my eyes almost turquoise and made my skin glow. I looked like someone who belonged at galas, charity events, and on the arm of a professional athlete.
I bought it without looking at the price tag. The first time I’ve ever done that.
“Let’s get dressed,” I say. “The boys will be here soon.”
I slip my feet into my heels and tuck the tube of lipstick into my clutch in case I need to touch it up later.
Tori glances over at me. “Banks is going to swallow his tongue.”
