Montana

The next morning I find myself in a dressing room at a shop near Planet Hollywood as Peyton tosses dress after dress over the door to me. She’s on a mission to find me the perfect little black dress. She claims I need a new LBD—little black dress—for clubbing tonight. I assure her I packed appropriate attire, but she won’t have it.

“I refuse to try this one on,” I tell her through the door, tossing the dress back at her. “You know I won’t wear ...