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After we rejoin the party, Maddox behaves himself, cracking me up with one-liners, and making sure I always have a drink in my hand. He even scores extra points for giving me adoring glances from across the room and watching as I mingle with the other big names in Y’allywood.
We’re gearing up for the main event: the runway show where theVogueeditor picks the winning dress. I have my competition cut out for me. That said, I believe Sophie’s is the most well-crafted, detailed, and beautiful, although I might be biased. Nevertheless, I think I have an excellent shot at winning as long as I don’t screw up.
I need a minute to make sure my outfit is in place, so I go to the powder room. I don’t have to use the bathroom yet, but when I do, it’s going to be an involved, step-by-step operation. As I’m heading in, I see Skye’s head pop out of a door that’s roped off.
“Psst, Riley, I need your help,” she whispers.
I slide around the rope and enter the massive primary bedroom with ornately trayed ceilings and a king-sized poster bed.
Once the door is closed, I finally get a look at Skye.
Her toilet paper gown is extravagant, to put it mildly. It’s a gigantic balloon dress with an explosion of pink toilet-paper ruffles everywhere. She’s got a hot pink beehive wig on, and the outfit is so over the top, Skye actually looks like a modern-day Victorian queen. “Wow,” I manage to say.
“I know.” She smiles ear to ear. “Can you get my last hook?” She turns around, and I pull the bodice—very carefully—until I latch the highest hook that’s made from duct tape.
Dolly and Llama rush over, and they’re wearing gowns that match mine. I can’t help but chuckle when I see the tiny versions of my same pink petal ballooning silhouettes and the tiniest corset buttons on their backs, and I think about how much care and time Sophie put into all this.
“You don’t look as good as me, but you still look like a million bucks.” Skye flashes me a wink. “You’re gonnawipeout the competition.”
I cock my head, but a laugh escapes. “So corny.”
“Oh, just wait. I’m giving the speech, and my humor isin the toilet.”
“Nice.”
“I’m so glad you’re modeling that dress…the shelters are overcrowded this year, more than usual, and they’re desperate for this donation.”
My stomach twists. “Right.”
When Billy comes through the door and beckons Skye because it’s time for her big entrance, they rush away.
In the primary bathroom, I make sure my dress is fixed, and I freshen up my makeup. When I go to leave, I notice a set of French doors that lead to a private balcony, and I don’t want to miss the chance for some fresh air to calm my nerves. I need to get my head in the right place to nail this.
After opening the door, I step onto the covered patio. As I go to close it, a flash of the mini version of my dress goes flying under my feet and into the yard.
“No, Llama, no!” I cry out as if the dog’s life hangs in the balance. Hers doesn’t, but mine pretty much does. Llama isn’t listening, nor does she have a care in the world as she darts onto the lawn and into freedom.
And it’s at this exact moment that it starts to rain.
I rush off the patio as the rain disintegrates my dress. I’m literally melting in the rain! And I’m calling for Llama, offering her treats and begging her to come to me, but nothing is persuading this pup who’s running wild and free.
She jumps into a mud puddle, and that’s it—her dress is destroyed. At this point, I just need to make sure I don’t let her escape to the road where something terrible could happento her. I dart forward, cornering her in a bed of lilacs at last. When I pick Llama up, I hold her out as I carry her back into the house covered in mud. I’m doing everything I can to keep from destroying my dress, but it’s hopeless.
When I get back inside and put Llama down, I’m fighting tears because now I have to break it to Skye that I’ve screwed up things for her, Sophie, and their charity.
Maddox comes into the room. “Oh, shit.”
“Llama got loose, and I had to get her.” I run a hand in front of my dress when I say, “Now what? I’ve ruined everything.”
“No, you haven’t.” He waves me on. “Come with me to the bathroom.”
I look down at my dress to see pieces falling off in hunks.
Maddox’s voice is smooth when he says, “Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. We can fix it.”
A clump breaks off in my hand. “Um, unless you have some sort of magic wand, we’re not fixing this.”
“I do have a magic wand, but I won’t be using it to fix your dress.” He flashes me a cocky grin, and as much as I want to enjoy this new, playful Maddox, I’m too disgusted with myself for ruining Sophie’s dress.
