Page 90 of The Mistletoe Makeover

“Yeah,” I say with a smile.

She smiles and takes in a deep breath. “Well, for tonight, you’re the star of the show. Get yourself cleaned up for the auction. You’re going to be on TV.”

My worst nightmare.

When I get to Jace’s home, Blackie and Tabby meet me at the door, sweeping around my legs with their soft tails. I stroke their backs, glad someone is here to greet me since Jace is gone. I crack open the door, and both cats push through. They skitter up the steps toward my room, and I don’t even try to stop them.

They’ll keep me company while Jace is gone with Allan. As soon as he gets home, I’ll put them back outside.

Even though I’d like a nap, I force myself into the shower and let the hot water wash away all the stress from the festival’s opening day.

When the doorbell rings, I check Jace’s security camera and discover Jaz waiting outside, holding a large plastic bag.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, looking over the mystery bag. “I thought you were hanging out with Brax at the festival.”

“I thought I’d surprise you... with a new outfit and a makeover for tonight.”

I glance at the bag but don’t take it. “Does this involve pink fur?”

“No, but don’t keep me waiting. Open it!” She steps into the foyer and holds out the mystery bag.

I peek inside. It’s a stunning red dress that’s fitted at the top with a knee-length skirt that’s perfect for spinning in circles.

“It’s gorgeous... but I don’t do red dresses.” I attempt to hand it back to her, but she stops me.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t like people noticing me. I’m the girl who’s behind the scenes, making things happen. Not the center of attention.”

Jaz holds the dress up to see if it will fit. “Try it on so I can send a picture to Ella. You know the last thing she told me before flying back?Don’t let Mia show up in jeans.”

“Now you’re myfashion coach?”

She nods. “That concert ticket is going to go for big bucks, and you need to dress like you’re worth a million of them.”

“As long as you don’t tell me to take off my glasses.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Jaz says.

“I don’t want to do this,” I moan.

“I know,” Jaz says. “Which is why I’m going to do it for you.”

She loops her arm through mine, and we head to the gigantic bathroom in my guest room.

When she walks in, her mouth drops. “Why didn’t you tell me you had the royal family’s bathroom?”

I shrug. “I don’t spend much time in here. It’s kind of a waste.”

“Not tonight. This is the bathroom of my dreams,” Jaz says, as she yanks my hair into a clip.

An hour later, Jaz finally steps back and looks me over. After having my hair pulled, my eyebrows plucked, and so much makeup applied I can’t believe I’m not a clown, I slide my glasses back on and stare at myself in the mirror.

“What do you think?” Jaz asks, clearly pleased with her work.

My knee-length red cocktail dress fits me perfectly, a miracle since Jaz guessed my size. My hair falls in waves around my shoulders, and my makeup highlights my best features and isn’t clownish at all.

“Give me a minute to get used to it,” I say, twirling in the mirror. “Because I feel like a stoplight.”

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