Page 40 of Hotter in the Hamptons

“It’s true. Okay, what’s the plan for later? You got invited to the Mytheresa x Flamingo Estate pop-up, right?”

Before she could answer, the waiter reappeared, holding plates piled high with steaming, salty carbs.

Ryan laughed. “Jesus, did you order the whole menu?”

“Duh,” she said.

In another life, the spread of food on the table would have made the perfect Lola Likes content. She would have captioned it “Lola likes BRUNCH!”I really am bland. A more honest caption would be more like “Holding it together by a thread—but with a cornetto!!!”

She shoved a piece of whole wheat toast into her mouth, not bothering to swallow before she added, “And no, I did not getinvited. Or rather I don’t know because I’m not looking at my phone right now.”

“I am sure you got invited,” he said, trying to reassure her, but she didn’t believe him. “And anyway, no one will care if you show up. Emmett will be there, and I promised him I’d stop by, so you can just be my guest, okay?”

“Fine,” she sighed. “But only if I can buy something new to wear.”

“East Hampton is your oyster,” he said. “Let’s plan to go around four, okay?”

She agreed.

***

The new Khaite store was just a couple of doors down, so they walked over after brunch. Lola felt mildly ill; she was a little too full from brunch and vibrating at a high frequency from all the caffeine. But she was determined to enjoy herself. If she couldn’t be happy shopping, she wouldn’t be happy anywhere.

Ryan held up a long, black dress, mouthing at her,Ten thousand?

So maybe the brand was a rip-off, but it didn’t matter. She had money in the bank and wounded pride to heal.

The shopgirl sat at the register, scrolling through her phone. Without looking up, she said, “Let me know if you want to try anything.”

“We will!” Lola chirped back with so much forced enthusiasm that the shopgirl tore her eyes away from the screen to peer her way.

“Lola?” she said.

Lola cringed, expecting the worst. “That’s me.”

The girl stood up. “Oh my god, you’re here! Everyone else is going to be so jealous when I tell them. We all love you. You’re the reason Imoved to New York!”

“Wait, really?” Lola flushed. It had been a while since a fan was nice to her.

“Really. Let me know what you want to try on. My manager is going to be so upset she missed you.”

Ryan gave her an encouraging smile, and she grabbed a pale-yellow jersey dress.

“This feels very me.”

“Lola likes!” Ryan sang. “Try it.”

She stripped down in the small dressing room, kicking the halter dress to the side and tugging the high-end piece over her head. It fell softly down the length of her body, the buttery fabric the color of lemon ice cream.That’s more like it, she thought, pulling back the curtain. The only thing out of place was the bandage on her foot, a painful—literally—reminder of everything that had happened.

The shopgirl and Ryan clapped. “There she is,” Ryan said.

Lola grinned. “Ineedit.”

“And it’s only going to be, what, seven thousand dollars? A steal. I’ll meet you outside.”

If Lola was the girl Aly had accused her of being—someone with no personal style who defaulted to whatever clothing brands were paying her to wear and post about—she would not have bought this dress. She would have emailed a PR girl and asked for a freebie in exchange for some promotion. She would’ve even consulted the company about what color they were trying to push for the season, maybe even curated what would look best on her Instagram grid. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. She refused to be. She was her own person, who could make her own decisions, starting with this ridiculous splurge on a yellowdress that she just simplyliked.

Of course, even Lola knew Aly’s criticism of her ran deeper than what she was wearing and where it came from. But she had all summer to make over her soul. For now, she’d let herself focus on aesthetics.

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