Page 122 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
I went back into the kitchen to grab the sandwich I’d made myself for dinner. Deciding to drown my sorrows in TV, I sat on the couch. I balanced the plate on my knee, turned the TV on, and settled in.
After taking a huge bite of my cheese sandwich, Stella popped into the room with a joyous grin stretched across her face.
What had gotten into her?
“Let’s go for a drive,” she said as a flash of blue poked out from behind her back.
“Do I have to?” I asked.
“Yes. But you can’t wear that,” she said looking me over.
“Are you serious?” I looked down at my clothes and frowned. I was in jeans and a t-shirt.
“Yes,” her green eyes twinkled. “We don’t have a lot of time. I’m so happy you took my advice today about pampering yourself, but we need to go.”
Stella had booked appointments to get her hair, nails and make up done. She gave me a sob story about the arrangements being made months ago when she’d planned to go away with her ex. Once they broke up, she didn’t need to them and had forgotten to cancel. The only reason she’d passed it off on me was because she had plans she couldn’t break today.
“Stella, you shoved a gift certificate at me and said it expired today. That I would break your heart if I didn’t use it in your place.” My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. It finally dawned on me. “You set that up on purpose. There wasn’t anything previously planned with Jerky Mcjerkface. You were tugging at my heart strings. Knowing I’d be thinking about how sad you were today instead of how weird it was that you didn’t want to go.”
She grinned, not denying my claim.
“It’s time, Ash.” She whipped out the blue dress I wore to the ball from behind her back. “To go get your Prince.” Stella threw her hand out in a perfect Vanna White imitation.
A piece of bread stuck in my throat. I waited three freaking days to hear those words. Now instead of reveling in it, I would die by way of choking and never hear what Dean had to say.
He claimed to love me. He was letting me go to spread my wings. Yet, not once in that whole tirade did he ask what I wanted. Or what I thought.
Either way, this time I would get a chance to speak.
“Ash,” Stella laid the dress over the couch and ran to my side. Her rhythmic pounding against my back hurt more than it helped. “You okay?”
“Water,” I wheezed.
She ran into the kitchen, filled a glass from the tap, and rushed back.
I gulped the water down until I cleared my throat. After repeating that a few more times, I was able to breathe again.
“Let’s get you dressed. Your chariot awaits.”
“Oh, did Dean send a limo?” I rushed to the window. My hands gripped the ledge, and my head swiveled back and forth. “Did it loop around?” I asked, turning back to Stella.
“I wanted to drive you. So I could be a part of things.” Stella frowned and gave me a grumpy stare.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Oh shit. I hated making my sister feel bad.
“What?” She waved her hand at me and laughed. “No, I’m mad I didn’t demand a limo for us to get driven around in.”
I laughed for the first time in days.
Stella stood and picked up the dress, swinging it from side to side. “You look so hot in this. He won’t know what hit him.”
This was my lucky dress.
“Can you imagine if I’d never bought it?”
“No, I can’t. Because then all of this might not have happened. And you deserve your happy ending.”
Stella and I had found it in an upscale consignment shop months ago. I drooled over the dress when it was on the hanger. The moment I tried it on, I knew it was mine. The dress transformed me. My curves added to the sexy allure of the piece, and the sparkles adorning the bodice made me want to ‘oh and ‘ah. The best part was I became a confident, sexy woman while wearing it.
