Page 158 of Playing With Fire

Me: I already have a costume. I'm going as Elizabeth Bennet.

Avery: See you at seven.

Me: Avery.

Avery: Trust me, Lizzy.

That should have been my first warning.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

DELANEY

“This is not Elizabeth Bennet.”

Avery steps back to admire her handiwork. “Sure it is.”

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and barely recognize the woman staring back at me who looks like Elizabeth Bennet left Longbourn, discovered eyeliner, and made several questionable decisions. Cream lace, black corset, and a flush to my cheeks that has nothing to do with blush.

“It absolutely is not.”

“Tis a modern Elizabeth Bennet.” Her attempt at a British accent is hilarious.

“Elizabeth Bennet did not wear a corset like this.” I inform her.

“She wore stays, basically the same thing.” She reapplies her lip gloss and I meet her eyes in the mirror.

“Under her clothes.” I argue with a laugh.

“Semantics.” She shrugs and the white oversized men’s button up shirt falls off of one shoulder.

“It’s literally underwear.” I turn toward her.

“Sexy underwear.” Avery grins and holds out a shimmery tube. “Here, use this, it has sparkles and won’t come off when drinking… or kissing.”

“Who the heck am I going to be kissing?”

“You never know, you might find your Mr. Darcy tonight.”

My grumpy cat meows at the sound of his name. “Oops, sorry Darcy no kisses for you.”

Twenty minutes ago, the black corset top pushing my boobs higher than nature intended had been hidden beneath the floral Regency-inspired dress I ordered specifically because I wanted a cute costume without looking like I tried too hard.

Then Avery showed up in a Risky Business costume that would have Tom Cruise jumping on a couch. She looked incredible in her shirt, tiny matching boyshorts, and tall white socks, her long blond hair falling in waves.

She also came bearing gifts, knowing me well enough in a short time to know that I would go for something a little less sexy and a little more wallflower. The dress I ordered is currently in a pile on my bedroom floor underneath an irritated Darcy.

I think he misses Bishop… that makes two of us.

I look back to take one last look at myself. I’m wearing the corset over a cream lace slip dress that barely reaches mid thighs, with sheer cream thigh high tights, that have little black bows at the top and disappear into my tall black heeled boots.

I knew these would come in handy, but not like this.

“Just missing one thing.” Avery reaches into her bag and pulls out a scrap of black velvet ribbon. “Turn and lift your hair.”

I follow her orders. “What is that for?”

“Necklace. I grabbed it from Ivy’s craft kit thinking it might just work perfectly.” She says as she finishes tying it around my neck, then steps back to admire her handiwork. “And yep I was right.”