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“Okay. I would like that.”

Her answer to my sentence is a nod as she gestures to me to follow her through the sprawling boutique.

Once again, I catch a reflection of myself in the mirror.

Alaric let me off early today so I could go shopping, so I’m still in my office attire. I gaze at my outfit—a pink shirt and one of my usual dark skirts. Goddess, I look underdressed, and I’m unsure about whether I can find a gown that will make me look like a model overnight.

Sherryl, from what her name tag says, shows me a lot of dresses. Lots of sequin dresses, lots of ruffled dresses, and ballroom ones. Only one gown catches my eye.

It’s black, elegant, formal, but not too formal, like in an I’m trying too hard sort of way. It’s satin. Everyone knows, money or not, satin is the sexiest and most comfortable fabric.

My fingers touch the material, and a small smile forms on my face.

“It’s a pretty piece, ma’am. Want to try it?” Sherryl asks.

I’m about to say it’s perfect, but my mood goes south when I get a whiff of Amanda’s familiar suffocating, headache-inducing perfume.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t little miss secretary trying to play dress-up in a world she doesn’t belong in.”

Oh boy.

Sherryl stands behind me with a curious expression.

I don’t have to turn around to recognize who it is, but I do.

Amanda stands a few feet away, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips.

She’s dressed immaculately, as always, her designer outfit clinging to her like it was made for her alone.

I would respond to her jab, probably even engage, but we are in public. I don’t want to snag attention.

I force a polite smile. “Amanda.”

She smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that gives me hives. I know her, and she’s about to declare war on me right here, right now.

I see it in the way she tilts her head, looking at the dress behind me, before she walks toward it to feel it with her fingers, too.

“Wow, this is quite the dress, but um, isn’t it a little ambitious for someone like you?”

I arch a brow. “What do you mean ‘someone like me’?”

At the same time, Sherryl tries to act like a buffer. “Ladies, if we could please refrain from—”

Amanda’s smile is all saccharine poison as she interrupts Sherryl. “Oh, come on. We both know you have no place at that banquet. You’re only going because you managed to worm your way into Alaric’s good graces. But let’s be honest, Lila, you don’t belong beside a man like him. Whores have never been Alaric’s cup of tea.”

I knew Amanda was going to come up with something despicable, but her words hit harder than they should.

I refuse to let her see it, though. I’ve dealt with worse. I’ve survived worse.

Sherryl looks shocked at the blunt insult.

I let that fucking “whore” insult roll off my back.

“You think you are better suited for him?” I ask her.

Amanda rolls her eyes. “Honey, I’ve been suited for Alaric long before you entered the picture, but if you think you are better, by all means, we can both try the gown. See who looks like gold beside Alaric and who looks like trash. You there…get me this exact gown.”

Sherryl nods quickly. “Yes ma’am.”