Page 55 of Effortless

“TRY THIS one, Cam.”

She took the second evening gown her mother handed over, and eyed the silk piece. “Kind of boring, isn’t it? Jesus, Ma, it looks like something a good girl would wear to her Catholic prom while the nuns reminded everyone dancing to leave enough space for the Holy Ghost.”

“Camilla.” Emma stared at her daughter like she was talking to a small child who didn’t understand big words. “Now, come on. Be serious.”

Camilla looked at the dress again.

Hell, she was being serious.

“Well, it is, Ma. It doesn’t even have a slit in the leg worth looking at.”

She checked the tag, and rolled her eyes.

“For the price,” Camilla added, “it should have something to make it worth putting on, for fuck’s sake. I am not paying two thousand dollars for a dress that won’t even turn heads.”

“Could you not swear in this store?”

Camilla side-eyed the prim and proper ladies milling about the store, and being helped by other women. “Ma, we all say the same things when we’re on our backs, right? You can’t tell me none of these women haven’t said something similar.”

Emma’s cheeks flooded with pink before she yanked the dress back out of Camilla’s hands. “My God, you are awful.”

She laughed.

Battle won.

Her mother was easy to play like that, honestly. She liked joking with her mother when Emma was least expecting it because it always made for a good laugh.

Like now.

“You love me,” she told her mother.

“Good thing,” Emma joked. “Seriously, though, find a dress. We can’t be here all day, and there are other shops I want to go to.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Camilla went back to looking through the racks of designer dresses while her mother headed for the front with the white chiffon and silk gown she had picked.

Camilla pulled a soft pink gown from the rack, and held it up to look the item over. It wasn’t anything to scoff at. It was a sweetheart neckline with extra-large crystals decorating the bodice. The chiffon skirt wasn’t poufy, and didn’t give off the princess vibe, which she appreciated. The back was a simple zipper.

Nothing about it was inappropriate, as far as that went. It also didn’t feel exactly prom-ish. Something Camilla hated about gowns. The front of the gown’s skirt was slit up past the knees, and would likely show off a bit of leg.

Some nice heels, and it would do.

Camilla turned with the dress to find her mother standing there waiting. “What do you think?”

“Well, at least you found something that doesn’t scream club.”

“Or do you mean to say slut, Ma?”

Emma gave her daughter a look that shamed Camilla damn near instantly. “You know I would never use that word for you, Cam.”

“I know. I’m just … Never mind.”

“Touchy, I think. The word you’re looking for is touchy.”

Camilla moved a bit to the left as a woman passed her by. Once the lady was out of earshot, she turned back to her mother. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Ma?”

“Just what I said. You’re a little touchy lately on certain things. Not like you usually are.”