Giselle

“I’m going to sit in the back with the boss’s wife. I can’t stand that wet dog smell coming off you,” Scarlett hisses, clicking her tongue and shooting a glare at the blond guy who’s clearly biting his tongue to keep from snapping back like he usually does.

“What kind of dresses do you like? If we start there, it’ll be easier to figure out which store to take you to.”

“Don’t I have anything at home that could work for the event?” I reply with a question of my ...