Sweet Billionaire Stepbrother(8)
Why couldn’t Grayson be . . .
No. God, no. Stop those dirty thoughts right there.
5: Layla
“Layla, indulge me just this once. Make me a happy woman.” Mum had the typical steely tone to her voice that warned me I wasn’t going to win this round easily. My lack of style had irked her for years, and she was insisting that I needed a makeover. Thanks to ample elbow ribbing from Sloane, I rolled my eyes and gave in to the extravagance.
“The two of you are exhausting. I don’t want a dress that wears me. Find something plainer and more comfortable.”
“You really are a silly girl not listening to your mother, Layla. God, I wish mine wanted to go shopping and spend a small fortune on me.” Sloane was genuinely pissed off that I’d refused to try on a two thousand dollar dress. I was equally as pissed.
Two thousand dollars. Who spends that on a dress they will most likely never wear again?
The amount of cash wasted on fancy occasions was ridiculous. When hair, make-up, shoes, corsages, limos and all the rest were thrown in, it all added up to a small fortune. Money I could think of far better uses for. But then I was reminded that so many people’s livelihoods depended on feeding human’s egos and helping them feel good about themselves, that I decided to stop resisting and just go with the flow.
“How about this?” Sloane held a dress in front of her, grinning as if she’d hit the jackpot.
I shook my head to the elaborate silver gown strewn with diamantes and a deep plunging neckline. “Exclude anything my boobs are going to fall out of.”
“That’s what double sided tape was made for, Hon.” she said, sulking that I didn’t like her choice of dress.
“That dress would look awesome on you though, Sloane. Why don’t you try it on?” The wide grin was back on her face instantly. If only people wouldn’t pick dresses out that suited them better than they would me.
Turning back to the task at hand, I flicked through the rack of gowns with waists so small I was sure they were meant for supermodels who lived solely on green leaves and dust.
“I refuse to have to hold my breath all night or not be able to eat anything,” I said grimacing, shooting Mum a warning look as she held up a slinky see-through number.
Mum had always wanted a daughter like Taylor—or Sloane. A pretty little girly-girl she could dress up in frilly frocks and blingy shoes. Her disappointment that I preferred jeans, t-shirts and ponytails had thankfully been relieved when she found a stepdaughter with similar tastes to go shopping with her. But today she was determined to make me go through the whole damn process.
“Layla, you’re making this very difficult, you know,” Mum said, her agitation visible as she returned the dress to the rack.
I was probably the only girl in the universe who wasn’t excited by designer names and didn’t know what the latest season trends were. Just thinking about it hurt my head, they changed so suddenly and I couldn’t remember the names for ordinary colors that suddenly sounded so fancy. Chartreuse was just plain lime green to me.
Shrugging, I let out a long sigh. “There’s definitely nothing here I’d feel comfortable wearing. Let's go to lunch instead. I’m hungry and tired.”
Mum looked at her watch. “We’ll eat in half an hour. Grayson is picking Taylor up from school and they’re joining us for lunch at Tony’s.”
“Tony’s? Why didn’t you say so earlier? I love that place.” Suddenly I felt a hell of a lot better.
Sloane raised a perfect eyebrow. “Grayson’s going to be there? Great.”
Mum rolled her eyes at me. “I hope your stepsister can persuade you to pick a suitable dress. I don’t know why you’d rather take fashion advise from a sixteen year old than me, but if it's going to make the whole process easier, I’m all for it.”
I gave her a little hug. “I’m sorry Mum. I know I don’t quite live up to your expectations of a daughter, but yeah, Taylor somehow understands me better. She just has a natural eye for what suits me. She’d never suggest I wear something that she’d like to wear.”
It was mean of me to add a little dig, but Mum always did that to me. She chose dresses for me that she’d look fabulous in but that did absolutely nothing for me. I had my father’s build, I was curvy and of average height, big boned by fashion standards. Definitely not tall and plank thin like my mother. I hadn’t inherited a single trait from her. If she hadn’t told me how much I reminded her of my dad so many times, I would’ve sworn I’d been switched at the hospital.
Just before we left the boutique, both Mum and Sloane applied fresh lipstick. I watched for a few seconds as they checked their hair in the mirror too. If only I cared what I looked like, I would’ve joined them.
My stomach rumbled. “Hurry up. I’m hungry.”
Sloane smacked her bright pink lips together. “Oh, we’re ready to go.”
Impatient, I checked my watch. “We’re running late. Taylor and Grayson will be waiting.”
Sloane’s eyes lit up. Was it because she knew Grayson was coming too? She’d never said so directly, but I could tell she had a crush on him. Not that I could blame her. Grayson was perfect in every way, even down to his slightly crooked nose because, well, it’s just what made him Grayson.