Chapter Eight
“The lavender one … no, not that one … does that look lavender to you? That one, yes.”
Moriko was barking orders at Livia as she dressed for the Thanksgiving meal at Nox’s home. The dinner with all his closest friends. All of them. And their girlfriends and boyfriends and oh God … Livia felt sick with nerves. She stepped into the dress Moriko had directed her to, then shook her head. “No. I don’t feel right in it.”
“What about the white one?”
“I don’t want to come off as a vestal virgin. And anyways, gravy stains. Thanksgiving dinner, remember?”
Moriko sighed. “Fair enough. So, we’re looking for something that says ‘Hey, don’t mind me, I’m the good-to-go-but-not-slutty-girlfriend from the wrong side of the tracks …’ I’ve got it. Let’s go find some knocked-up-from-the-thr
