Page 41 of Always Say Yes to a Dragon

Youownthat awful building?

I’ll see you tomorrow.

If he hadn’t replaced me by then.

I’ll send your purchases over.

10

Elle

Istared at the dresses in my closet, all wrapped in garment bags, wondering if I’d actually get to wear one tonight. Maybe the black one. It was versatile. Of all the fancy things Az’zael had given me, this was the one thing I could see myself wearing after he was gone.

Az thought it was boring.

He and I were supposed to go to that party tonight. I’d gotten my nails done and gone to one of those fancy new salons for a haircut and a blowout. They’d given my hair a “glossing treatment,” whatever that was, making it shiny and bouncy.

I’d even spent several hours searching for any scrap of information I could find on dragons and dragon culture, trying to suss out what he’d want from me tonight. Stay quiet and look pretty? Back him up and play cheerleader?

All I found was a handful of horror stories out of Sutton about overbearing dragons, but they seemed outlandishly unlikely. I’d also come across a few rumors about a dragon/human couple in Wickensville that amounted to little more than salacious gossip.

Az and I had barely exchanged any text messages since yesterday afternoon, and I figured it was over, all my preparations nothing but pure optimism. The thought had me hot and cold and confused.

My phone buzzed.

Wear the green dress.

Please.

Okay

Shit. My stomach tied itself in knots. I’d freaked out and disappeared, and he was still being sweet.

When he got here, I could apologize. Yesterday, once my anger had cooled, all I could recall was his panicked response to my declining the apartment. He’d genuinely wanted me to take it in exchange for going to this party tonight.

I couldn’t. I needed to keep some distance, or my heart would end up smashed all over the floor of that bright, clean apartment I’d just refused. But I appreciated the gesture.

I wasn’t quite dumb enough to think that he had anything more than a passing fondness for me—we’d only known each other a week—but he’d treated me kindly and with respect, within the bounds of the transactional nature of our relationship and his own dragon sensibilities.

For a brief moment this morning, while the stylist was slathering on the acrid-smelling gloss, I considered ending things. It’d be a lot easier. But I liked trying new things. I was even looking forward to this party, though it made me nervous. I’d never get an opportunity like this again.

So I would enjoy it for what it was and not get too invested. I wouldn’t change anything that I couldn’t change back in four months.

You’re so full of shit, Elle.I enjoyed spending time with Az, and I wasn’t quite ready to give that up. I’d never really been able to do what was best for myself when it came to men.

I got dolled up, did the best makeup and hair I could manage after watching fifteen video tutorials, then put on the green dress he requested and a pair of strappy gold four-inch heels. The straps had a beautiful leaf design that I’d been unable to resist. Somehow, the power of high-end designers and four-figure price tags made them almost as comfortable as wearing flats.

At least Az would never complain that my shoes made me “too tall,” or surreptitiously check that I was still shorter than him.

I scrutinized myself in the mirror, twirling this way and that. The slinky fabric clung and moved with me like an extension of myself. I felt glamorous for the first time in my life.

Az was taking me out in public, to some kind of gala. I wanted to look my best, and though this dress looked spectacular, it was a little bare without jewelry. None of my stuff would do this dress justice, though. It was all cheap and fake.

The diamonds.After considering and deciding against getting a portable safe, I’d hidden the jewelry case under my bed. No one would think I kept anything valuable in this dump, and I wasn’t about to stick everything in one convenient box for a thief to grab and crack open at their leisure.

I slipped on the set, then gave myself one last look in the mirror, adjusting the updo I’d done and praying the ten thousand bobby pins and half a can of hairspray would hold it in place.

A knock sounded, and I rushed to answer, hoping that I’d chosen the right way to apologize.

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