Page 81 of My Not So Wicked Stepbrother (My Not So Wicked 1)

Marlowe didn’t listen to me and continued her assault on my hair. “It looks so much better with a little volume.”

I rolled my eyes in her vanity mirror. I looked around at all the cosmetics and hair products she kept on it. If this is what it took to be beautiful, forget it.

Macey, meanwhile, was filing my nails and complaining about how little care I put into them.

“You both realize I work in a steel mill, right?”

They looked at me like, so?

“Stop your complaining. You can dress up for Sawyer for one night.” Marlowe pulled out a large can of hairspray.

“He doesn’t care about that kind of thing.” It was one of the reasons I loved him.

“Tonight’s special.” Macey smiled at me.

Yes, it was. We were celebrating the twenty-fifth anniversary of this dance and doing a tribute to our mother.

“Fine, just go easy on that hairspray.”

Marlowe ignored me and fogged my head. I had to admit, once it cleared, my curled hair did look good. I even felt a little glamorous.

“How’s everything going at the store?” I asked.

Both of their tall frames deflated. Macey even sighed. “Dad says he’s going to find a buyer for the store, but he’ll try and find someone who will keep us on as employees.”

“That’s good.”

“I guess,” Marlowe growled.

“Let’s not talk about the store.” Macey jumped up and grabbed the dress I would be wearing tonight. The girls had found it in mom’s old things that the wicked witch had hidden in the attic. The wicked witch who no longer lived here. She wasn’t all that happy about it and swore to take Dad for everything he had. Thankfully, Dad had been at least smart enough to have her sign a prenup. I wasn’t sure what was more awkward for Sawyer and me—that our parents were married or that they were getting divorced. I was more than happy about the latter, though I tried not to convey it around Sawyer.

We also didn’t talk much about his sleazeball brother, who had a warrant out for his arrest not only here but in Vegas too. Poor Sawyer was sick over it. His brother was more of a swindler than we previously thought. His ex-wife’s family was on the lookout for him too. The construction company he’d work for was owned by his ex-wife’s family and they too had some missing money, but it was a lot more than four thousand dollars. Ashton was never mentioned around my sisters. I think they were both still struggling with the idea that they had been so fooled, and it kind of grossed them out that they’d had relations with the same guy. I knew I was still ill over it, which was why I was choosing to push it out of my head for the night. This night was all about what was good in my life.

Macey held up a lacey mauve dress with spaghetti straps. Mom had worn it to the very first Farewell to Summer dance. It was my honor to wear it, as long as the Spanx was going to hold up. I had no idea how Mom had looked so good after giving birth to twins earlier that year.

“Pink really isn’t my color.”

“Actually, it is.” Marlowe smoothed one of my curls until she was pleased with it.

“Let’s get you in Mom’s dress,” Macey’s voice cracked.

I looked at my sisters through the mirror. They were already dressed to perfection with their hair up and makeup done. Macey was in a long, flowing maxi dress, and Marlowe was wearing a strapless dress. Both casual but classy. “I think us together makes her very happy.”

Both the girls smiled before hoisting me up. “She’s going to be happier once you get dressed.” Marlowe always knew how to ruin a sweet moment.

“Fine. Why are you both in such a hurry?”

They looked between themselves and did their twin talking with no words thing.

Marlowe didn’t answer but unceremoniously started disrobing me.

“Sawyer will be here soon.” Macey took Mom’s dress off the hanger.

That was always good news for me, but we had some time, or so I thought. Dad knocked on the door. “Is she ready?”

“Just about,” Macey called.

I yanked up the Spanx over my abdomen. Who needed to breathe? “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Marlowe lied in a high-pitched voice.

I shimmied into Mom’s dress, and by some miracle we were able to get it to zip up. I slipped into some semi-comfortable bone colored heels with a bit of a sparkle to them, and stood in front of Marlowe’s standing mirror and stared at myself, but I only saw my mother staring back at me. Macey handed me a tissue. “Don’t cry yet—you’ll ruin your makeup.”

“Yet?” I dabbed my eyes.

Marlowe stared at me too. “You know, you’re beautiful.” She walked off with Macey and let Dad in.

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