“You did not forget.” At my look of horror, Tiffany’s eyes pop wide. “How could you forget?”

Fire burns in my belly. “Well, I’ve had a lot on my plate, you know?”

My brain’s dropping into warp speed now. Mr. Fox invites the entire company to his estate twice a year, once for a winter holiday party and the other for a spring celebration. It’s an opportunity to see and be seen, get to know people all over the company, and to have an elegant night at a fancy mansion.

I didn’t grow up poor by any stretch. Dad always made plenty, and I never wanted for anything, but Mr. Fox is a different kind of wealthy, and to get to party at his house is a treat. Last year, he had an open bar of top shelf liquor, caviar appetizers, and a full spread of toiletries in the bathroom. I never knew that I would be so impressed with disposable toothbrushes in a guest bathroom, but damn, that did it for me. So much so that I added a few to a drawer at my place, though Tiffany has been the only one to use them so far.

Maybe Colton will use one if he ever sleeps over?

“Earth to Elle. Come in, Elle.” Tiffany is snapping in front of my face and the car behind me is honking. I blink, realizing the light is green.

“Shit, sorry!” I wave, hoping the driver behind me sees the apology. “I totally forgot. This has the potential to be literal hell. I have this image of Dad holding one hand and Colton holding the other and them pulling me like a Gumby until I rip apart.”

Tiffany is quiet for a minute, letting me pull into the mall parking lot and find a spot far away from other cars. It’s not that I can’t park in the regular spots, but Cammie is antisocial and wants her space. I don’t mind the extra steps to the door because then she stays door-ding free. And yes, my car has parking preferences, and no, I’m not crazy. Much.

“Seriously, babe. Are you okay with everything? You said you have a lot on your plate, and that’s true, but is it too much? Are you caving under the pressure? Freaking out from the stress?” She’s talking fast, worried about me.

“I’m . . .” I search my soul. “Remarkably okay. I mean, there is the whole Gumby thing because it is a lot. I don’t know how it’s all going to play out, either, but that’s never bothered me before. I thrive on chaos. You know that.”

“Just be careful, Elle.” Tiffany is unusually serious.

“I know your dad always has your best interests at heart, even if he’s overbearing about it sometimes. Colton’s still an unknown, though. I know he told you up front that he’s using you, but honestly, that makes me suspicious as hell. It’s like he’s a magician telling you to look right here, and meanwhile, his other hand is doing all sorts of shady shit, and not in the good slight of hand way. Just . . . be careful.”

And now I’m gonna cry again because my bestie is the best in the whole wide world.

“Thanks, Tiff. I will be. I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I feel like I’m getting to know Colton. He is trying to get at Dad, I know that, but I think this is more than that. For both of us.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her about his wanting some fun in his life and about our dares, but I don’t. That feels like it’s private, just mine and Colton’s.

Instead, we head into the mall to tackle Tiffany’s pink list.

“What all do you need?” I ask, already touching a soft cashmere sweater. The grey would look amazing on Tiffany, and I start looking for her size.

“I did a fresh capsule wardrobe plan. Going to stick to basics black, white, and pale grey, with blush pink, burgundy, and teal accent pieces. I need skirts, jeans, tops, and probably a sweater so the A/C doesn’t turn me into a meatsicle. Plus, a versatile dress for the dinner.”

If I didn’t follow Tiffany on Instagram and Pinterest, I wouldn’t have understood a word she just said. But I do, so I do understand.

As chaotic as my closet is, Tiffany’s is equally neat and tidy, which is why Ace’s destruction was so hard on her. Tiffany could pack for two weeks in Europe in ten minutes, travel with only a carry-on suitcase, and look chic as hell the whole time. My closet? I could dress for a costume party, a cocktail party, the office, the gym, a date, and pull out the sweater I wore to the first day of tenth grade. I’ve got it all, and then some. And it’s all shoved in there with zero rhyme or reason. Why not have a hot dog costume next to my favorite band T-shirt? I never know when I’ll need either. And yes, I have worn that hot dog costume within the last year and not on Halloween. Long story, and of course, it was a dare.

But shopping is something we do well, so we make good progress in a short time.

“I dare you . . . to try this one on!” I hold up a pale pink dress with silver sequin flowers.

Tiffany’s nose scrunches cutely. “For what? That is awful!”

I wiggle the dress, and the sequins make a swishy sound against each other. “For the dinner. It’s even in your color palette.”

“Not even if I was pre-partying and drunk on liquor I bought myself would I wear that to Mr. Fox’s fancy dinner. But because you dared me, I’ll try it on.”

“And pose for pictures!”

She rolls her eyes and repeats after me, “And pose for pictures.”

The fitting room has a large, sectioned mirror showing Tiffany every angle of the dress. It really is atrocious, which only makes the pictures that much better as Tiffany reenacts every bridal moment of ‘it’s The One’ about the dress as though it’s fine couture.

“You suck. My turn,” she says as she sorts her stack of clothes into nopes and yeses, leaving the nopes on the rack in the fitting room lobby.

She surprises me, picking a navy-blue lace number that’s actually gorgeous. I expected her to find the ugliest dress she could get her hands on and then dare me to pose crazily, maybe even send pics to Colton. But as I shimmy into the sheath and Tiffany helps with the zipper, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

“I dare you to wear it to the dinner.”

Tiffany’s whispering too, like neither of us wants to break the spell the dress has us under. It’s not even all that fancy, not a wedding gown or a red-carpet-worthy dress, but it fits me perfectly, highlighting my every curve while being modestly knee length. Though the last several inches of length are all lace.

I shake my head. “I don’t need a dinner dress. You know I’ve already got things I can wear.” Even as I argue, I don’t stop admiring myself, turning slightly to see the back, which is daringly low-cut and also made reasonable with a lace overlay.

“Uh-uh, I already dared you. You wouldn’t back out on that, would you? Chicken.”

I press my lips together. This isn’t the usual wild and silly dares we do. This is Tiffany daring me to head into a corporate function looking like walking sex. Not in a slutty way, but in a classy, elegant way. I’ve never felt elegantly sexy before, but I do now.

I want Colton to see me in this. I want him to see me schmooze and small talk all night with friends and coworkers and not be able to keep his eyes off me.

And there are those old friends, anticipation and excitement, buzzing in my belly.

I nod to Tiffany in the mirror. Dare accepted. She smiles back soft and sweet, as if she knows this is different too. Like maybe that’s why she dared me to do it.