Page 42 of She's the Star

AMBER

The second show is as successful as the first, and now that it’s Sunday, I should be relaxing. My schedule for the day is completely empty.

Except for Teddy’s impending visit.

I blow out a breath and skim my fingers over the endless racks of dresses that fill an entire wall of my closet. They’re gorgeous. And revealing. And absolutely wrong for a day at home. I sigh and turn a circle in the middle of the ruthlessly organized space. It’s packed full of clothing. I have something for almost every occasion. Award show. Concert. Charity softball game. Brunch with music execs. Yoga class.

Is having unlimited options helping me decide what to wear? Nope.

What does one wear when they are intending to socialize with their old boyfriend and their fake boyfriend at the same time?

Maddy makes a sound between a squeal and a giggle from where she’s sitting on the floor at my feet, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was laughing at me. I plop down next to her, and ask, “What do you think I should wear?” Because obviously asking a baby for fashion advice isn’t a desperate move.

She gurgles and waves at me.

That’s her newest skill—waving. She picked it up sometime during the last week and she’s been waving at everyone and everything since she got up this morning. It’s beyond cute. I wave back, and the smile she gives me nearly cracks her face.

“I’m overthinking this, aren’t I?” I ask.

She keeps waving and I can’t help laughing.

“Jeans.” I surge to my feet. “Jeans are casual, and they make my butt look fabulous.” I wince because not only does Maddy not understand what I’m saying, she isn’t ever going to want to discuss how my ass looks in pants.

Deciding to wear jeans is only the first hurdle.

I have about fifteen different shades of denim. Not to mention all the colored varieties. After way too long, I settle on a vintage wash with a tear in one knee.

I search for a casual top, flipping through hanger after hanger. I try and then discard twenty—okay maybe more like thirty—shirts, but I can’t seem to decide. I groan and fling myself on the carpet next to Maddy. She waves at me again and then dives forward, landing on my abs. I shift her so that I can sit up and then I plop her down in my lap.

She rubs the lace of my bra, clearly appreciating the texture. At least my underthings aren’t hideous. And my body is sexy as hell. Wearing jeans with just a bra is totally something I could pull off…but that would definitely be awkward.

I wish I could turn off my brain and just pick a damn shirt. Somewhat defeated, I stretch toward the shelf where I left my phone, snatch it up, and text Mina for help.

Less than a minute later, she storms into my closet.

“You made my day. My month. My year,” she shouts as she drops to her knees next to me. “You’ve never asked for my opinion before.”

I roll my eyes. “You give me your opinion on everything.”

“Of course I do. But my opinion is usually unsolicited. And sometimes unappreciated.”

“Untrue. I appreciate everything about you.”

“Yeah right.” She giggles and swivels her head so she can scan the closet. “I thought your schedule was open today.”

“It is.”

“Then what are we picking this ensemble for?”

“Teddy’s coming over. And Nolan.”

She whips her head back toward me. “Explain.”

I give her a highly abridged version of the fake boyfriend scheme—leaving out the kiss entirely. She points at me. “I knew something was up with Nolan. He told me he was fine, but—” She shakes her head.

“Things were a bit awkward on Wednesday night when Teddy was here”—understatement—“but we’ve uh…worked it out. Today is going to be much smoother.”

Her eyebrow shoots up. “You worked it out? Then why you can’t decide what to wear?”

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