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“I’m not a bitch,” I say. I look at Sara. “I’m not. I swear.”
She shakes her head. “I have a sister, too. And this is the kind of shit she’d rope me into without telling me. I’m on your side.”
“Ha!” I say, sticking my tongue out at my sister.
“To be fair, this was Harlow’s idea,” Piper says. “Not mine.” She shrugs. “But I happen to be on board. Luke is going to flip his shit when he sees these pictures.”
“Yes!” Harlow shouts. “Linc won’t know what hit him.”
I roll my eyes. “I guess I’ll save my pictures for when I’m 80 and need to remember that I was hot once.”
Piper rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to be single forever, Layna. Besides, maybe Michael would like to see them.”
Her voice is teasing, but I can’t quite muster up a laugh. During this morning’s phone call with Michael at brunch, I made it clear to him that he and I weren’t going to work out. That ship has sailed. Honestly, I feel relieved about it. He’s a nice guy, and easy on the eyes, but there was no real chemistry between us. I know what I said to Cole the night we made my dating profile; that I didn’t need all of that. That I’d settle for someone with similar goals. But I don’t know. The more I see my sister and Luke, Harlow and Linc, and all the members of the King family; the more I don’t want to settle for less. If that means it takes me longer to find the right guy, so be it. But I know he’s out there.
“Did something happen with you and Michael?” Piper asks, her voice gentle.
I shake my head, not wanting to go into it right now. Besides, it’s not that big of a deal. We were barely even dating.
“I’m not sure Michael is the guy for me,” I say. “Too soon to tell.”
Piper nods, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she says, “I just want you to have what I have, Layna. Someone who sees the real you and loves you for who you are. Someone who drives you crazy in the best way and someone you can’t imagine going through life without.”
Her words hit me with the force of a sledgehammer blow. My breath catches in my throat, and I work hard to keep my face neutral as I smile.
“Is that all?” I say with a laugh.
She shrugs. “It’s what you deserve.”
“She’s right, you know,” Harlow says. “You deserve all that and more. And if Michael isn’t those things, cut him loose and find someone who is.”
I smile, wondering if I should just tell them I dumped Michael. But I’m so sick of talking about my dating life. I don’t want to answer a bunch of questions about how I knew he wasn’t right for me or whether I’m okay.He’s not the right guy for you because he’s not Cole Prescott, a voice in my head whispers. That voice has been growing increasingly louder since last night and our moment on the balcony. I’ve been ignoring it, but I’m worried I won’t be able to for much longer.
“Okay, ladies,” Piper’s stylist says. “Ready to see your finished looks?”
We all nod, smiling as they spin our chairs around to face the mirrors behind us. I don’t know what I’m expecting, but when I see myself, I’m slightly stunned by the transformation. The woman in the mirror looks like me, but also different. The makeup is more subtle than I was expecting, but it’s a touch more than I wear normally. I can tell that Sara took my own preferences into account when it came to the makeup and hair. I didn’t want anything over-the-top. It looks natural, even though I know how much time it took for her to achieve the look. When Piper’s eyes meet mine in the mirror, she smiles.
“See?” she says. “We were right.”
“I told you to trust me,” Harlow says, making me laugh.
All three of us look beautiful. And I’ll admit that having my own personal stylist and getting the model treatment was pretty great. I smile at Sara.
“Thank you,” I say. “This is perfect.”
She grins. “For what it’s worth, you don’t need to take these pictures for a man. Take them for yourself. You’ll be glad you did. I’ve never seen a single woman leave here feeling bad about herself. They always leave here looking ready to take on the world.”
I laugh. “Thanks.”
“Have fun with it,” Sara says. “And don’t stress about the nudity. Think about all the times a doctor you just met has asked you to strip so they can look in all your crevices.” She shrugs. “This is less invasive than that. And way more fun.”
We all laugh and suddenly I’m feeling less anxious about the whole thing.
“Okay,” I say, injecting confidence into the single word. “Let’s do it.”
The next two hours pass in a blur of smiling, laughing, and posing, all while donning various sexy outfits that it would never have occurred to me to wear if not for this photo shoot. I don’t know where Harlow found them or how she guessed mine and Piper’s sizes, but they’re perfect for today.
Jordan instructs me on how to stand, how to look at the camera, where to look and whether to smile. She does all this while snapping dozens of photos and telling me how amazing I look. It’s strange because I’ve never been overly critical of my body or the way I look, but like most women I’ve compared myself to the models on magazine covers or the celebrities on television. I’ve usually felt lacking in that regard. But today? With Jordan’s encouragement, I feel every bit as beautiful and confident as one of those women. I realize that if it weren’t for Harlow’s gift, I might never have felt this.
