1Love Redesigned (Lakefront Billionaires, #1)(27)

My sister barrels into my room an hour later wearing a pink cowboy hat and a dress with far too many sparkles. “Grab your comfiest heels and your favorite tube of lipstick because the Mu?oz sisters are going out.”

I pause my TV show and sit up in bed. “What? Since when?”

“There’s a costume party at Last Call, and our attendance is required.”

“I don’t know…” While my mood has been improving thanks to my antidepressants and therapy sessions, I don’t want to push myself too hard since there is a fine line between stepping out of my comfort zone and getting sucked into a black hole of panic.

“It’ll be good for you to go out, even if it’s for a little bit.” My sister rummages through my luggage, throwing expensive designer clothes everywhere in the process. Where I am organized to a fault, Lily is the human equivalent of an F5 tornado, wrecking my system of packing cubes and colorcoded outfits within a few seconds.

Honestly, it’s impressive given how long it took me to pack everything.

Lily peeks over her shoulder. “What are you doing sitting there? Get out of bed and go work on your hair and makeup.” She claps her hands together and yells, “Chop chop!”

I wrap a throw blanket around my shoulders. “I don’t want to see people from town yet.”

She frowns. “Why not?”

I stay quiet.

She rolls her eyes. “You care way too much about what other people think of you.”

“No, I don’t.” My tone comes off annoyingly defensive.

“Then why else would you have spent the last week holed up in here, finding every excuse to avoid going into town?”

I scratch my nose with my middle finger.

Lily chuckles as she tosses a jacket on my bed. “It’s okay. Little sister is here to save the day.”

“How?”

She holds up a sparkly dress in the air, scrunches her nose, and tosses it on top of the growing pile beside her. “Consider tonight your first lesson in the subtle art of not giving a fuck.”

“But—”

Lily holds up her hand. “Give me thirty minutes. If you hate it, then you can come home.”

“What’s the second option?”

She cracks her knuckles. “I will change the Wi-Fi and streaming passwords, hide your collection of Silver Vixen DVDs, and steal your entire overpriced skincare routine.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Are you willing to bet your Dyson Airwrap on it?”

“And people think big sisters are the bullies in the relationship.” I stick out my tongue.

She tugs on the blanket until it slips from my hold and lands on the floor. “Come on. Tonight will be fun, I swear. Plus, ladies drink for free.”

I fidget with one of my rings. “I shouldn’t really be drinking with my medication.”

“I won’t tell anyone you’re sipping mocktails if you don’t.” She winks.

As much as I want to say no, my sister’s excitement won’t allow me to. “Okay. Fine. But only for one drink.”

“Sure. Yeah. Whatever.” She pulls out a red dress from the bottom of my luggage. “Yes! This is perfect.”

“And what am I supposed to be?”

She pulls a triangular piece of paper from her jacket pocket and pins it to the strap of the dress. “I’d rather you be surprised by whoever guesses it right.” She throws the dress at me.

“Lily!”

She rushes out of my room, yelling, “You’ve got fifteen minutes to get ready, so get to it!”





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Dahlia


Last Call hasn’t changed since I last left, although it currently features cheap Halloween décor to celebrate the holiday. The crowd has grown since we first arrived, most likely because parents and children are no longer wandering the streets collecting candy.

At first, I was sweaty and borderline panicked at the idea of speaking to anyone, but no one brings up the news of my broken engagement or Oliver, proving Lily’s theory correct.

I do care too much about what others think. Whether about my makeup, clothes, or life choices, I let the Creswells’ opinions rule my life, turning me into a version of myself I grew to resent.

You’re a part of our family now, so you should dress accordingly, Oliver’s mother said as she gifted me a beautiful designer gown two sizes too small.

No one likes a show-off. His sister shot me the fakest smile after I beat everyone during a family trivia night.

Couldn’t even let me win that, Oliver whispered in my ear before kissing my cheek for our audience after I won the award for Best TV Host in the reality television category.

“I’m back.” Lily yanks me away from the memory as she passes me another nonalcoholic strawberry daiquiri. While it isn’t my drink of choice, I suck it up because Last Call isn’t known for its world-class mixologists.

I grab the plastic cup and take a sip. “Am I Jessica Rabbit?”

“Who?” Her face scrunches.

I shake my head. “Never mind. What about Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?”

She laughs before knocking back her shot. “Good guess, but no. Your dress is too short, and you’re missing the iconic gloves. Now, let’s go dance!”