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Next, there’s a long tunic with a lovely butterfly pattern at the hem.
Prints, Your Highness. They’re a thing.
Then a maxi dress with a sweetheart neckline.
That one was a little higher, but notice the fifty percent off sale!
There are twelve affordable dresses, all in my size, all suitable. None of them are the obvious sexy style I would have expected a man to pick.
I can’t believe the amount of thought Marius put into all this. It must have taken him ages. I knew he liked being right, but this is another level.
The thirteenth dress isn’t affordable at all. It’s the very opposite. The note attached to it says:And this one, because I actually don’t need to be cheap.
A deceptively simple skater dress with short sleeves and a rounded neckline, it’s considerably prettier than any of the others, and fucking adorable.
Not that I can keep it.
Honestly, I shouldn’t keep any of it, but I can pay him back for the five hundred bucks’ worth of shopping he spent on me. It would make a dent in my savings, but not completely dilapidate them. That four-figure Dolce & Gabbana number is another story.
“Did we go shopping?” Violet’s voice calls.
I jump and flush, putting the fabric back down in the box, guiltily.
“No?” My voice doesn’t sound right.
She ignores me, zeroing in on the blue and white number I haven’t hidden fast enough. “Oh, I love that pattern! Is that D&G?”
Count on Thorn Falls royalty to identify a luxury brand in a split second.
“I didn’t buy it,” I quickly say. “Someone sent me these.”
Her expression shifts to concern. “Not your stalker?”
I inhale guiltily. I don’t want her to worry without cause. “No. Well, notthatstalker. Marius sent them. We were talking about my clothes being bugged the other day, and I mentioned grabbing a few things…”
She gasps. “Right! I should have thought of that. You can borrow anything of mine, sweet. But Marius sent you clothes? You talked to him? I feel like I missed a few things.”
“Miss” is generous; I deliberately avoided mentioning him. “He’s picked me up from work when I had a late shift.” He was there Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday this week. “I never asked. He just shows up,” I grumble.
Violet’s pinching her lips to conceal her knowing smirk.
“It’s nothing,” I say before she can jump to conclusions. “He just feels guilty. And he pities me. And he’s still deciding if I’m the Wicked Witch of the West, or something.”
“Uh-huh.” She nods, still biting her lips.
“It’s nothing,” I insist.
“Absolutely. Also, I’ll be very put out if I’m not a bridesmaid.”
I chuck a dress at her. Not the expensive one. I’m notthatupset.
She snorts and tosses it back. “He likes you. And you like him. No shame in that, darling.”
“He’s a high-handed arrogant jerk!” I protest.“You know what he did to me.”
“Yep.” She makes the word pop. “Doesn’t change the facts.”
“I’m returning the dresses.”
