Page 20 of The Billionaire's Claim: Possession
I’m about to say, “That’s great,” then catch myself. Maybe she doesn’t like Diego. Or he’s a creep. So instead, I say, “And…?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I want to go.”
What the hell kind of response is that? “Why not?” If Diego’s a pervy asshole, I’m going to do something brotherly and protective. Like beat the shit out of him until he’ll never even think of asking her out again.
“Nothing.” Kristen sighs again.
Just then Liza walks in, her step bouncy. She looks delicious in a bright purple sundress and heels. We’ve been together for three months, and she now spends more time at my place than hers.
We exchange a quick kiss. I want more…but my sister’s watching.
Kristen gazes up at Liza like she’s an angel who’s come down to save her. “Thank God. Hi!”
“Hi.” Liza’s eyes dart back and forth between me and Kristen. “What’s going on?”
“Kristen doesn’t want to go to the prom,” I say. “She already has a date, by the way.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing,” Kristen mumbles miserably.
After studying my sister for a moment, Liza taps a corner of her mouth. “When’s your prom?”
“Next month. Not a lot of time left for shopping. All the good stuff is taken.” A shrug. “You know.”
“Hmm. You’re right.”
Kristen’s voice grows smaller. “I know. I’m always right.”
It hits me that Diego isn’t the problem. She’s worried about the cost of attending the prom—the dress, shoes, everything. She doesn’t have anything she can wear to the dance, and although I’ve never shopped for girl stuff like this, I’m sure an outfit won’t be cheap.
Ugh. I’m such an idiot.
Then I feel like a failure. When I took legal custody of my sister, it was to give her the kind of warm, supportive environment she deserves. Instead she’s worried about money. It’s partially my fault for being so open about our finances. I assumed it’d help her feel more included to be informed.
I take half a step forward. “Look, Kristen, it’s—”
Liza puts a hand on my arm. “But that shouldn’t keep you from going. I have tons of dresses you can borrow if you want. We’re about the same size, so one of them should work. And most of them are classic.”
Kristen looks uncertain. “Are you sure? I mean, they’re your dresses.”
“I’m sure. Some of them I only wore once, and I really need to get my money’s worth, you know? I’ll bring a few tomorrow.” Liza smiles.
Kristen jumps from her chair and throws herself at Liza, who hugs her back with a soft laugh. My heart leaps, achingly full of tenderness and gratitude.
And then and there, I know Liza is the only girl for me. There’s no way I can feel this way for another woman because I’ve given one hundred percent of my heart to her.
The next day, Liza shows up with seven dresses, much to Kristen’s delight. I stay out of the way—what do I know about female fashion? I trust Liza’s going to dress my baby sister appropriately.
A phone call an hour later drags Liza home—causing me great disappointment since I want to tell her about the letter I got from OWM about my internship—but Kristen doesn’t seem to notice. She hops around, vibrating with excitement.
“Did you see what she brought?” she squeals.
“I was here the whole time doing research for my papers.” I have three due in the next two weeks.
“The best one is the blue dress—I think you’ll approve—and it’s a Versace! She told me I could wear it to the prom if I want!” The hops get higher. “Versace!”
I tilt my head. I don’t know much about fashion, but I’m not totally ignorant. How can Liza afford a Versace? She works at a café, drives a modest car, wears inexpensive clothes and carries cheap purses.
