CLARISSA’S POV
Jemma zips up the tight black dress, giving it one final tug before stepping back with a satisfied grin.
“Damn, girl. Landon is going to lose his mind,” she says, nudging Zaya, who lets out an excited squeal.
I roll my eyes, adjusting the straps of the dress as I glance at myself in the mirror. It’s not something I would normally wear—short, figure-hugging, designed to turn heads. My makeup is flawless, thanks to Zaya’s expert touch, and my hair falls over my shoulders in an effortlessly glamorous way.
“I didn’t invite Landon,” I say.
Zaya immediately makes a face. I know that face. It’s an expression that sets off alarm bells in my head.
“Zaya,” I say slowly, narrowing my eyes at her. “You didn’t.”
Zaya gives me a sheepish smile, biting her lip. “Okay, so technicall
