Page 180 of The Art of Almost Losing It
I never should have let you leave.
-GR
“Damn, girl, what did you do to that man?” Piper whistles.
“It’s the power of pussy.” Gran snaps a picture.
“Give me that.” Mom snatches the card. “I’m adding it to your scrapbook.”
“Scrapbook?”
“Of your first relationship.”
“Costco has a scrapbook kit.” Dad kisses the top of my head. “And Vivienne might be right even in her alcoholic state—empty bottle’s right twice a day and all that. This might be the only relationship you ever have. Your mom and I want to enjoy it.” He reaches for a rose. “Yoink. I’ll take one of those too. Flower-pressing kit.” Dad winks.
“Can I have the bow? I want to pin it on my dress like a bunny tail.” Gran wiggles her hips.
“You are not wearing a bunny tail to Vivienne Belmont’s daughter’s couples shower.” Mom argues with Gran while I gingerly lift the top off the box.
“Stop stalling. Open it,” Piper urges.
“What if it’s something horrible?” I whisper.
“Ooh, it’s beautiful!” Piper squeals.
Nestled in the white tissue paper is a black dress. Actually,theblack dress from Bergdorf Goodman. The one with the delicate gold chains holding the back together, dripping with diamonds.
“Wow, Beans, this guy really likes you.” Dad whistles.
“Damn right he does.” Gran slaps my butt, which does not move in the shapewear. “He knows quality when he sees it.”
“Well, she can’t wear that.” Mom’s flustered. “It’s too low-cut. She needs shapewear.”
“I think you’ll look amazing in it, Dani.”
“I’m going to have to cut you out of this shapewear.” Piper sighs and shoves me toward the bathroom.
“She has to wear it,” Dad argues softly with Mom. “He bought it for her.”
“And she’s going to look hot as hell.”
“… sagging.”
“Mom’s right. I mean, he couldn’t have gotten the right size.” I fret as Piper peels me out of the shapewear in the bathroom.
I hold up the dress on its hanger. The diamonds sparkle in the light from the sconce over the mirror.
“Is this a joke? I mean, I saw what I looked like in the mirror in the department store and—”
“Nope, we’re not doing that.” Piper wags her finger at me. “You’re about to go into the lion’s den. You heard Viviennetoday. There are going to be enough people at this party trying to tear you down without you offering a helping hand.”
Helping hand helps you first.
My face goes hot, remembering how my helping hand helped me in Graham’s office. He was sex-drunk and clearly didn’t really think I was pretty, right?
Even though he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever met. Out of my league doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Piper helps me step into the dress then shimmy it on.
