As Patrick predicted, Henley, Cari and her little sister, Grace were waiting outside the garage when I got there. Conner was nowhere to be found. I pretended to be surprised when they hustled me into Cari’s brand-new SUV. Patrick bought it for her. Like Con and Henley, they’re completely gone for each other. To be honest, I was sure Patrick would be the one to propose first but it looks like Con’s got him beat on this one.

“Get your ass out here, Tess,” Cari calls from the area outside the dressing room. Henley called it a salon. They’re out there, lolling around on couches, drinking champagne and rating the dresses they’re forcing me to model.

Grace made point cards and everything.

“Come on, Tess we want to see.”

“She’s been in there for fifteen minutes—should one of us go get her?”

There’s a soft knock on the dressing room door and my first instinct is to dive for cover. Man, dresses make me feel naked. “Miss Tesla…” Anton, the shop owner opens the door slowly. “May I be of assistance?” He finally shows his face, probably figuring if I’d really been naked I would’ve told him to get out by now. When he sees me, his face goes slack, eyes wide.

Shit.

“Is it bad?” Implied nudity forgotten, I turn to look at my reflection in the mirror “Fuck—it’s bad, isn’t it?” Smoothing my hands down the front of the skirt, I tug at its hem like pulling on it might actually make it longer. “I don’t think I’m—”

Anton stands up straight and holds out his hand. “Come with me now, Miss Tesla.”

Fuck that, I’m naked.

Instead of saying it out loud, I just shake my head. “No…” I lift my hands when he reaches for me. “This isn’t the one. Maybe I should —”

“I’ve been dressing women for nearly fifty years.” He cuts me off and holy shit, he just clapped his hands at me like I’m a rambunctious poodle in desperate need of training. “You’ll trust me.” He holds out his hand again, his tone gentling. “Now, come.”

With a last look in the mirror, and a final protest bubbling on my lips, I let him catch my hand and pull me out of the dressing room.

The chattering stops.

“Holy shit,” Cari breathes, setting her empty champagne flute on the little round table in front of her, eyes almost as wide as Anton’s. “Tess… you look—” Her beautiful face splits in a grin.

“I knew it.” Grace jumps up and jabs her finger at me. “I knew there was a total hottie, hiding under those coveralls.”

“It’s really, really red.” I look down at myself. I prefer grays and blues. Blendable colors. And legs holes. I like leg holes. Two of them. “And tight.” I look up at them, pressing a hand against my stomach. “Really tight.”

“Hell yeah, it is,” Grace crows, flashing me her 10 card. “Turn around, let me see your ass.”

Before I can protest, Anton hands me up onto his fitting platform and spins me around.

“Now that is a bitable hiney.” Grace toasts my ass with her glass before draining it.

“Did you just say hiney?” I glare at her over my shoulder. At least I try to glare. Grace is Cari’s little sister. She’s only been here a few days, but she’s slipped right in. Like she belongs here. I like her. Really like her. More importantly, I respect her. On the surface, she’s bright and bubbly but if you look at her long enough you can see the heartache. She’s been through some tough shit but she’s a fighter. Cari is trying to talk her into moving here to go to school. I hope she manages it. I like having her around. “No more champagne for you, Juno,” I say, and she laughs.

Turning around, I shift my gaze to Henley. Out of the three of them, she knows me best. She’s also spent the last decade or so drowning in diamonds and designer labels. She knows what she’s doing. She’ll tell them how stupid I look. “What do you think, Hen?”

She sits back in her seat, head cocked. Deep brown eyes narrowed critically. “I think it needs to be taken in a bit at the waist and the hemline needs to be raised another two inches.”

Behind me, Anton makes a sound of approval and jerks the skirt up to what feels like my crotch and my mouth drops open. I reach down to jerk the skirt toward my knees and Anton slaps my hand away. I shoot Henley a wide-eyed look. “Hen—”

“You wore a bra and axle grease for Halloween,” she says, shooting me a pointed look.

Shit. It’s been six months and no one will let me forget my bout of temporary insanity. “That was different.”

“Yeah, different because you did it to poke the bear,” Cari pipes up with a laugh. By bear she means Declan. She wasn’t here for Halloween but I’m sure Patrick told her the story about how I lost my mind and ran around Gilroy’s half-naked. Let some college guy drool all over me. She’s right. I did it to piss off Declan.

And it’d worked like a charm.

Before I can tell them they’re all crazy and/or drunk, the bell above Anton’s shop door lets out a jingle and she breezes in.

Jessica.

And she’s not alone.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Someone kill me.

“Anton, I can’t seem to stop losing weight, with all the wedding str—” She stops short when she sees me.

At the sound of her voice, Henley and Cari stand up and turn, with Grace scrambling up after them. Jessica stops short

“You know you have to make an appointment, Miss Jessica,” Anton says while turning and pinning the hemline of the dress I’m wearing. “I don’t take walk-ins.” I look down at him and he gives me a wink. I was a walk-in.

“Well, you think with all the money my fiancé has spent here on our wedding, you’d make an exception.” My fiancé. The emphasis was subtle, but I caught it and it pulls my gaze up and past her to land on him.

Declan is here with her.

What the fuck did I do to God to make him hate me so much?

“I’m so sorry, Jess, but I’ve booked Anton’s for a private fitting.” Henley lies in an overly sweet tone. “Would you like me to call TJ MAXX and see if they have a dressing room open?” I have no idea what she just said but from the look on Jessica’s face, Henley basically just shit on her. Eight years in Fancyland has taught her a thing or two about being a mean girl. Couple that with the fact that she has no problem with taking off her Jimmy Choos and squaring up, she’s sort of terrifying.

“Come on, Jessica.” Declan reaches out, closing a massive hand over her arm but he’s looking at me. Staring at me. Like he can’t take his eyes off me. “Let’s go. We’ll come back later.”

When she doesn’t budge, Anton laughs, waving a dismissive hand in her direction. “I’ve been in business for forty-seven years.” He keeps turning and pinning. “I don’t have to make exceptions for anyone.” Finished, he straightens and claps his hands like a kid on Christmas morning. “Look at those legs, Miss Tesla—beautiful, just like your moth—”

He was going to say mother.

Beautiful, just like your mother.

It slices through me, so quick and sharp I barely feel it.

The pain.

The loss.

Ten years later and it still hurts.

Every time someone talks about her, Every time I hear her name, it’s like opening that bathroom door all over again.

Something passes over Declan’s face, something I can’t bear to see so I look down at Anton instead. He looks like he’s about ready to cut out his own tongue with a pair of pinking shears. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “My tongue is old and thoughtless sometimes.”

I force myself to smile at him. “It’s okay, Anton. She’s been gone—”

“Oh, sweetie, you’re not looking for a dress to wear to the wedding are you?” Jessica says, cutting me off. When I look up at her I can see the disdain on her face, covered by a thin veneer of helpful concern. Whatever she’s about to say, it’s going to be super shitty. “Did you look at the price tag before you tried it on?” She shakes her head at me like she feels sorry for me. “I don’t think you can afford it on what Con pays you at the garage.” She says garage like someone else would say crack house and I watch Henley’s hands crank into fists. Insulting me and Conner in one breath was not a smart move. Henley may look and act like a lady most of the time, but she still has a mean right-jab and Jessica is her favorite punching bag.

“I appreciate your concern, Jessica—” I look down at the dress I’m wearing. I didn’t look at the price tag before I let Anton force me into it but she’s right. I probably can’t afford it. “Like Hen said, we’re just having a girl’s day.”

“Oh, that’s a relief.” She gives me a syrupy sweet smile. “Because that dress—”

“Looks fucking incredible on her,” Grace pipes up. “I mean, did you get a look at her ass? I’m as straight as they come and I’m having a hard time keeping my hands off it.” She shoots Declan a quick grin. “AmIright?”

The syrupy sweet grin spread across Jessica’s goes sour. “Who are you again?”

“I’m Grace Faraday.” Grace cocks her head and plants her hands on her hips. “Who the fuck are you?”

Cari’s little sister is a goddamned treasure.

“Jessica, I already told you—” Declan finally looks away from me and pulls on her arm again. “Tess isn’t coming.”

“And I already told you that I am.” Declan scowls at me but I ignore him. Settling my gaze on Jessica, I keep talking. “I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.” I smile even though my stomach is clenching and roiling at the thought. “And you don’t have to worry, Jess. I’m looking for a dress for a date—not your wedding.”

Okay, maybe not a real date.

It’s for Cari’s art show tomorrow night.

And I’m going with Ryan, Henley’s older brother.

I asked Logan, but Declan scheduled him to work at the bar tomorrow night, so when I say date, I have the satisfaction of watching his jaw snap tight and his eyes narrow. Because he has no idea who it is.

“Let’s get you out of this dress so I can fix it for you.” Anton takes my hand and helps me down.

From the dressing room I hear the low murmur of voices, followed by the jingle of Anton’s bell. Listening hard, I can pull out snippets and words.

Skank

Total fucking lap dog

Bitch

Shit for brains

Dress back on its hanger, I open the door to find Anton waiting on the other side yammering on about how he’d get started on it right away and it would take no time at all to finish the alterations. “I appreciate your help, but I can’t afford the dress.” I took a peek at the price tag and about fainted.

There was a comma involved.

Jessica is right. I can’t afford it.

“Miss Tesla—” He starts to shake his head and I know what he’s going to say. What he’s going to offer.

“No.” I’d have trouble accepting a pair of socks as a gift. There’s no way I can make myself take a dress that cost more than I make in a month. Hell, two months.

Even if that dress made Declan look at me like he wanted to eat me for dinner.

Mind made up, I smile and exit the dressing room. “Alright ladies,” I say, clapping my hands together when they all stop talking and look at me. “I believe that I was promised pizza and wings in exchange for torture by dress and it’s time you bitches paid up.”