Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“If you get along.”
“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t now a chief concern of mine, especially after all the changing of plans. Matt always gets flustered when plans change. It makes him unreasonable.” I paused. “No, unreasonable is too soft of a word. He turns into a passive-aggressive Satan. He learned it from his mom. It is not…pleasant. Hopefully he’s not that bad today.”
I heard a commotion as I reached the stairs, finding Cyra and Hollace standing next to a large powder-blue box that had been set on the coffee table in the front room. Aurora and Mimi sat on the couch across from them, listening to Cyra animatedly tell a story.
“It was the craziest thing, wasn’t it, Hollace?” she was saying.
“Oh yeah, and I was supposed to tell you that they finally arrived,” Tristan told me.
“I really don’t know how it happened,” Hollace said, nodding. Edgar stood in the corner with his hands behind his back, surveying everyone. “We all agreed to skip the detour to Patty’s friend’s house and come straight here. And then we were somehow having tea with Patty’s friend.”
“It was like an out-of-body experience, I’m telling you,” Cyra said. “None of us could remember when we’d changed the agreement. We just ended up stopping by for a nice bit of tea while they gossiped.”
“The detour was happening and no one so much as asked why,” Hollace said.
“No, Jessie.”
It took me a moment to realize Mimi had spoken to me.
“What?” I asked as I reached the bottom of the stairs.
All eyes turned to me.
“No.” Mimi shook her head. “The necklace is wrong and not at all you. The sweater is unsuccessfully trying to make the dress more conservative. Don’t dull yourself to please other people.”
Tristan stopped beside me, glanced down at my outfit, and continued forward again without comment. He didn’t plan on getting involved.
“I get that, but Matt makes these snide comments about the dress code. It’s a mood killer. I’d rather avoid it.”
Tristan stopped and turned back, his eyes glowing brightly.
“Since when are you the type of woman to alter your taste because of a man’s snide comments?” Mimi pushed.
“Honestly, it’ll just be easier if I tone things down a bit.”
“Easier for whom?” Mimi lifted her eyebrows.
I froze on the word me.
Awareness seeped in slowly. I remembered all the times I’d come downstairs and he’d say something like “Is that what you’re planning to wear?”—his voice dripping with disdain. Then he’d go on with something like “Well, we don’t have time for you to change. Just try not to embarrass me.”
Nothing I’d ever worn was right, even if he’d been the one to suggest the outfit. One time I wore exactly what he’d said would be best for a corporate function, but when we got there, I was overdressed. He’d turned around and blamed me for getting it wrong, saying, “No, you obviously misheard me.” When I recounted the conversation, he’d continued, “For someone who thinks she’s so smart, you certainly have a bad memory. I told you not to wear something like this. I distinctly warned you that the event would be business casual.”
He’d been so adamant, so confident, that I’d almost believed him. If he hadn’t also been overdressed, I would’ve thought I was crazy, remembering something completely different than what had happened.
He’d always made me question myself. It was why I was now so relieved when Mr. Tom picked out crucial outfits or Nessa helped me accessorize. Clearly, I was still worried I’d get it wrong. I’d done exactly as Mimi had said and dulled myself to ensure his approval. That, to me, was knocking it out of the park.
Unsettled and a little confused, I blinked stupidly for a moment. It was like looking in a mirror and not recognizing the reflection in the glass.
“Wear what you want,” Mimi said softly, as though I needed to be handled with care. “Be confident in yourself. You’ll never please others if you can’t first please yourself.”
“That sounds like good sexual advice, too,” Cyra said, nodding.
“Here.” Aurora pushed up from the couch and glided over to me, taking the predatory grace of a shifter to new heights. “I’ll help. I have an eye for rubbing it in exes’ faces.”
Up in my room again, I picked through my necklaces while Aurora brought over different options for a cover, one a silk wrap and the other a cashmere shawl.
“Uncle Auzzie always says that you’re really easygoing…until you’re not.” She held up one, and then the other, before lifting the cashmere. I nodded to approve it. “Being easygoing has the potential to attract controlling partners. My first boyfriend was a gaslighting jerk. He had my brain so twisted, I was essentially reduced into a shell. And you ask yourself…how, you know? How could I end up in a situation like that? I’m better than that. I don’t let others push me around.”