Everett Holden had sworn to live the rest of his life a single man, but his plans are disrupted when he finds himself sharing an apartment with his best friend's ex - the one woman he detests with every fiber of his being yet simultaneously desires...
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I'VE STUDIED FASHION my entire life, and I've been preparing endlessly for the moment I'll present my portfolio to companies, but still, nothing compares to walking down Rodeo Drive to get fitted for a designer dress made by the one and only Izzy Holden.
Her designs are the hottest commodity right now. Everyone who is someone is dying to get their hands on a piece created by her, and here I am, about to waltz into her chic and upscale store without an appointment. Everett claimed I didn't need one, he said she knew I was coming, but it still didn't feel right.
I mean, I come from nothing. I don't have money, but Everett reassured me I didn't need any for this, whatever that meant. Not to mention, I'm not a girl who fits into designer clothing. My figure isn't the norm. Will Izzy be surprised when she sees what I look like? She probably doesn't even remember the few times we met in passing all those years ago.
Lingering outside the shop, I rest my back against the side of the building and let out a deep breath. I'm psyching myself out. This is the coolest opportunity I'll probably ever get, and I'm going to ruin it by self-sabotaging.
But this all brings back memories of Liam and his family. I was always unwelcomed to every function of theirs. I wasn't who they wanted their son to date. I was too big. Too dark. Too poor. Too much of everything.
"Emery!" Izzy is holding the door open, waving excitedly with a huge smile, and all those doubts I had seconds ago dissipate ever-so-slightly. "Come in! I'm so happy you're here." When I reach the door, she pulls me into a hug, shocking the hell out of me. "How are you? How's everything? I heard you're going to school for fashion design!"
The questions are a lot—almost as if she's wanted to ask them for a while, which is strange. She must see how overwhelmed I am because she laughs and smacks her wrist. "Sorry. I have a habit of talking too much sometimes. Forgive me, but it's not every day I get to design a dress for a girl my brother is bringing as his date! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
My feet are rooted to the shop floor as I process what she said. "I'm sorry, did you just say you're designing me a dress? Like, custom-made?" I assumed I'd be wearing one of her clearance dresses, or maybe something a couple of years old, but a custom piece?
She nods enthusiastically. "I can't give too much away since I'm under strict orders, but I'm thrilled to be making it for you! Come on, follow me."
I don't know how I'm even walking, but somehow my legs follow her through the shop. It's light and spacious, with green plants everywhere. Mannequins are dressed in her most recent collection, and I recognize some of the pieces from the latest issue of Vogue.
I'm completely dumbfounded when she instructs me to step up on a podium in front of three large mirrors, and as I stare at my reflection, I can't help but cringe.
