Page 36 of Vows We Never Made

A doll for her to dress up. And it’s not that I don’t trust her fashion sense, but I’m not sure her sense of fashion isme.

See: this dress.

On the hanger, it looked incredible. All red satin, off one shoulder with a slit up the opposite leg, skirting the line between elegant and showy. The chic girls in Margot’s world of money and fashion wouldn’t look out of place in it.

I’m so not a chic chick.

The assistant returns with an elegant gold necklace and matching earrings with—holy shit, are thosediamonds?

I’m going pale, thinking about the cost. But did she really say Ethan gave me an unlimited wardrobe allowance?

“I don’t know. The dress is an attention grabber, do I really need earrings?” I hesitate, but Margot grabs my hand before I can hand them back.

“Wear it all! You want the attention. Besides, it’s all on Ethan’s dime.”

“What if I break them?”

“You won’t.” Margot’s tone is dismissive. “Okay, let’s see. Yeah, I think we should bring up the hem a little. What do you think?”

The assistant nods and pulls out some pins. I stand still as they map out a couple alterations—shortening the hem and subtly changing the angle of the single shoulder.

“I’ll have it ready this afternoon, Miss Blackthorn.”

“Perfect!” Margot claps her hands. “In the meantime, we’ll work on your makeup.”

Makeup?

Oh God.

But before I can fuss I’m manhandled out of my dress and Margot reveals the arsenal of high-end makeup she’s brought with her, filling in the gaps with new cosmetics she needs from the store.

“The Blackthorns have worked with this place forever. Even Mom still orders from here with everything in New York,” she says. “By the time we’re done, they’ll have your alterations wrapped up.”

I shake my head, biting my lip.

“Margot, I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. All you have to do is pretend my darling brother isn’t an enormous jackass and be your gorgeous self. You’ve gotthatdown.”

“But everyone there will be rich. Like, daughters of former presidents and women way smarter than me.” All thrown together in a palatial Maine compound everyone else will be used to.

Not to mention a date with Ethan flipping Blackthorn of all people, however fake.

A date.

It’s the sort of thing half the girls in Portland would’ve killed for.

How many lined up for him years ago, begging for it before he joined the Army? And since he became the literal heir to a multibillion-dollar company—

Holy crap, I feel vertigo.

Margot sits me down and gets to work, using more makeup than I’ve ever seen in my life.

I’m a ‘slap on some mascara and I’ll be fine’ kind of girl.

Margot? No way.

Our complexions are so different with her getting sun in her travels and daily walks, plus the odd trip to Arizona or the Caribbean a few times a year.