OLIVIA
Dillon opens the door to the passenger seat and helps me out. He holds the small of my back as we walk into a boutique I've never been to. I look at the tag on the door and the sticker of a pregnant lady suggests that it's a boutique limited to clothing for pregnant women.
"Good evening," the cashier says when we stop in front of her. "How may I help you Alpha and Luna Barlowe?"
"We need a dress," he says, deadpan.
"Oh my goodness! The Luna is pregnant?" she says and I frown just as Dillon lets out an irritated sigh.
She leaves the counter and gestures for me to follow her.
"You can sit over there Alpha Barlowe," she points to a seat as we walk to an aisle of colorful dresses.
"We have colorful dresses in this aisle and darker colors in the next, which would you like?" she
