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“I need some water,” I mutter.
Behind me, I hear Laura whining. “I want a billionaire boyfriend too!”
I pour myself a cup of water and lift it to my face to hide my smile.
* * *
I’m not shockedat all when Mimi swoops into my apartment later that evening.
She’s dressed to the nines as usual. Chunky white sunglasses. A bright red coat. Zebra-patterned leggings and a pair of designer stilettos.
“Mimi!” I greet her with a big grin. My voice is lightly teasing. “Are we close enough to do the air kiss thing or no?”
She looks at me like she couldn’t care less, but I do notice a little twinkle in her eye.
“That depends on the answer to this question. Were you planning on wearingthat?” She points to my trusty little black dress. “Tonight?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
She breezes into my living room. Her mouth is a tight line of disappointment. “Ugh. No air kisses for you.”
I fall back when a man brushes past me, following Mimi into the room. He graces my couch with a disgusted look before daintily laying a garment bag down on it.
Two strangers—well, technically a stranger and a tyrant I’ve met once before—just blazed into my apartment.
And I don’t even blink.
It’s weird that none of this fazes me anymore.
“I’ll take it you don’t like my dress,” I mumble.
“You should burn it.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
Mimi’s assistant drags a chair from my dining room table and starts setting up a ring light.
“No trailer this time?” I poke at the lone garment bag. “Am I in trouble?”
Mimi raises her chin, red lips bold and bright. “I see someone’s in a good mood.”
“We did some good in the world today.” I smirk, thinking of Maggie’s reaction to her new house. “And we put away some bad guys.”
Earlier this afternoon, we contacted a lawyer and submitted documents for a restraining order against Hatchen. It felt good to protect myself this time. And I know Maggie felt that way too.
“So yeah,” I finish, “I’m feeling good.”
Mimi studies me with her calculating eyes. Finally, she dips her chin. “Confidence looks good on you. Much better than that dress anyway.”
“Thanks?”
She crosses the room like a model. “There was no need for a trailer today because you already have the shoes that will match the perfect dress.”
“You’re so sure it’s the perfect dress?” I murmur while unzipping the bag.
She swats at my hand. “No peeking.” Gesturing to the man unlocking a makeup kit with at least ten tiers, she says, “Gelano is going to do your hair and makeup.”
“Is that necessary?”