Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(52)

“This is the dress,” London says as I step out of the changing room.

It’s mint-green chiffon: light, flowy, and elegant.

“Are you sure the black dress wouldn’t be better? Isn’t it sexier?” It sure does hug all my curves.

“The black dress is sexy, but this dress is you.” London taps her lip. “And I say you accent with gold. Here.” She passes me a pair of heels. “See how these look.”

I try on the heels, and London outfits me with jewelry and a clutch before I get to work on my makeup. While I’m applying mascara, she checks on Avery to make sure everything is running smoothly with the event. She slips back into the bridal room ten minutes later.

“How’s everything going out there?” I ask.

“Running like clockwork. It’s so much easier now that we have the staff to support the events instead of it being the three of us running everything all the time. Here, let me help you with your liner.” She takes the brown pencil from my hand and forces me into a chair. “Close your eyes.”

I do as I’m told and tip my chin up. “It’s hard to believe we tried to run every single event with just us and a skeleton staff for years, isn’t it?”

London mm-hmms. “It honestly blows my mind sometimes when I think back to how we used to run things around here. And with the franchises, it’s really going to be about us overseeing the events and letting the staff take the reins more and more. It’s why we hired all of these competent people.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to free up two weekends a month soon?” It had been in the works before the franchise opportunity, which delayed us because our staffing needs have grown even more. I’d say something about how I’m worried about what the future is going to look like for us, but this isn’t a great time, not when I’m about to go on a date.

“Honestly? I’m pretty sure we could make a case for it now. As it is, Avery’s handling things fine out there on her own.”

As if she can hear us talking about her, Avery knocks on the door and then slips into the room. She lets out a low whistle. “Wow. Nice dress pick, London.”

“How do you know it wasn’t me who chose this dress?”

“Because London is the fashion guru.”

“Fair. How’s everything going out there?” I ask, even though London and I were just talking about it.

“Great, apart from my freaking swollen feet.” She drops down into a chair and toes her shoes off. She grunts and leans forward, rolling off a sock. “Good lord, how much water can one person retain?”

London and I both look down at her feet. The print of her sock is embedded in her skin and there’s a dent where the top of her shoe ends. “You have to take it easy on the salt.”

“I have been! All my food today has been boring and bland.”

“On the upside, at least it’s fall, and you don’t have to wear sandals until well after the baby is born,” London points out.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fit my feet into shoes by the time I’m ready to pop this baby out.”

“I had to give up heels about four months in,” London replies. Out of the three of us, she’s the only who willingly wears heels most days of the week. I tend to stick to flats unless it’s an event night, and Avery avoids them altogether. She wore flip-flops on her wedding day and running shoes during the obstacle course wedding party introduction at the reception.

“You would have worn heels to the delivery room if you’d been allowed,” Avery scoffs and rubs her belly.

“That’s untrue.”

“Only because you were like Griselda, trying to jam your swollen feet into shoes that were way too small.” Avery arches a brow. “Anyway, enough about swollen feet, do you know where Gavin is taking you for dinner?”

“Nope, he just said wear something nice,” I reply.

“Did you pick up some sexy lingerie to wear under your dress?”

“I guess it depends on whose version of sexy we’re talking about.”

Avery’s version of sexy lingerie is upgrading from a sports bra to one with padding and black bikini briefs. London, on the other hand, loves all things lace and satin and delicate. I’m somewhere between the two.

London stops messing with my eyebrows and gives me a stern look. “Please tell me you bought new underwear for this date.”

“Who says he’s going to see my underwear at the end of the night?” I challenge.

“Oh please.” London props a fist on her hip. “Isn’t Peyton sleeping over at her grandparents’ place?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

“So he’ll be able to come back to your place and stay the night if he wants,” London says.

“Do you think I should invite him back to my place?” I glance between my sisters.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Avery rubs her belly.

“It’s our first date.”

Now it’s Avery’s turn to give me a look. “You’ve been seeing him on a weekly basis since July. It’s October.”

“Because of Peyton.”

“Uh, we all know that’s bullshit.” Avery makes a circle motion and points at me.

“I was in a relationship for most of the time I was spending with them,” I argue.