I stood by the window upstairs. Watched Lucien instruct the stylist. The very one he had insisted on hiring to get me ready for the event. I had insisted on putting myself together.
“I do not want you to look tacky at that event… Some people are built for this, trained for this. You'll let them do their job.” He blurted out while I sat at the dining table watching him flip both hands up and down like a choir master.
“I understand this kind of treatment is synonymous with you rich lots, but I’m capable of putting one or two things together, in a way that allows me to show my style and be comfortable…” I choked out. I needed him to understand what I was saying.
“You're no sophisticate, Ava. The stylist will be here in an hour or less.. Just be ready for when she comes.”
I had wanted to
