Married To The Lawsons

The Invitation

I lay in bed, scrolling through my phone. The events of yesterday replaying over and over in my head. Somehow it still feels surreal. I'm really getting married into the Lawsons family. The thought alone is enough to kill my appetite but as my stomach grumbles , I swing off my bed with a sigh, and head downstairs to grab something to eat.

Walking into the kitchen, I'm hit with the smell of butter and and fresh herbs. I see Mrs Bryson, our head chef behind the marble counter. She's been working for my family since as long as I can remember and that's basically my whole lifetime.

She turns at the sound of my footsteps, and her face immediately lights up.

”Miss Dora," She smiles at me. ” It's so good to see. I heard you got back but I haven't seen you since.”

I smile back. "It's fine Becky. I haven't been down for a meal since I returned."

We call her Becky and well, she's almost like family now.

”You're up late. You've missed breakfast today too."

”If you could just make me a toast, eggs and a salad. That'll be nice.” I say.

”Sure. How do you want your eggs?” She asks

"Soft boiled." I reply.

Twenty minutes later, I sit alone at the kitchen table and have my breakfast before heading back upstairs.

I stare at my screen, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. I'm freshly bathed and my hair is up in it's usual bun. My phone buzzes.

Lily: Updates. Now.

I sigh, sinking deeper into my bed, my phone warm in my palm.

Me: Nothing to report. I met the Lawsons. It was as thrilling as a board meeting on a Tuesday.

Lily’s reply comes instantly.

Lily: And the fiance?

I hesitate, glancing at the ceiling.

Me: Exactly what I expected. Cold, formal, and annoyingly well dressed.

Lily: So, a human iceberg in a Tom Ford suit?

I smile

Me: Basically.

Lily: We could elope together if you want.

This time I laugh out loud. Typical Lily, cracking jokes even in the most serious situations.

The door swings open, and Evelyn’s voice pierces through my moment of solitude. “You’re coming shopping.”

I groan. “That’s not a question.”

Frances leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “It’s a distraction.”

I squint at them. “From what?”

Evelyn smirks. “Your tragic fate. It was France's idea.”

Lily: No?

Me: A very bright idea. I'm being kidnapped by my sisters. Pray for me.

Lily’s laughing emoji pops up as Evelyn tugs at my blanket. “Get dressed.”

I sigh, texting Lily a final Talk later before tossing my phone aside.

Rodeo Drive is exactly what you’d expect on a weekend. The glossy storefronts, the hum of expensive cars rolling past, and an air of wealth so thick you could bottle it and sell it as perfume.

Evelyn, of course, is in her element. She struts ahead, already rattling off a list of things she needs, as if she doesn’t already own the entire inventory of half these stores. Frances, ever the picture of effortless elegance, follows at a more measured pace, her eyes scanning the window displays with the precision of someone who actually knows fashion.

Me? I’m just here, dragging my feet behind them, trying to convince myself this is better than staying home and brooding over Ted Lawson.

Spoiler: It’s not.

We walk into the Gucci store, and Evelyn immediately beelines for a rack of dresses, pulling out a red satin number with a thigh-high slit.

“This,” she declares, holding it against herself. “Is perfection.”

Frances barely spares it a glance. “It’s also impractical.”

Evelyn rolls her eyes. “That’s the point.”

I drift toward a display of handbags, trailing my fingers over the sleek leather. A black Gucci Jackie 1961 bag catches my eye. It's structured and timeless, the kind of quiet luxury I can appreciate.

I consider walking away but I don’t. I might as well get a few things for me too.

I return to my sisters, and Evelyn has added two more dresses to her arm meanwhile, Frances is trying out a classic black blazer that looks just perfect on her.

We make payments, and Evelyn immediately leads us to Chanel. It's much more busier than the last but i love the soft lighting and neutral tones.

Evelyn wastes no time, heading straight for the shoe section. “Dora, you need a pair of heels.”

“I have heels.”

She spins, scandalized. “Basic ones. You need real heels.”

Frances hums approvingly as she lifts a pair of Christian Louboutin "Loubi54" Sneakers

off the display. “These are nice.”

Evelyn scoffs. “She’s not wearing sneakers.”

I eye the heels Evelyn is holding. A black So Kate Louboutins, sleek, dangerously high, and practically designed to break ankles.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I like my ankles intact, thanks.”

Evelyn sighs dramatically but moves on, letting Frances try on a pair of boots while she herself tests out the loubila Mini pouch bag in silver.

I, however, find myself staring at a pair of Burnished leather penny loafers. Simple and elegant. Something I’d actually wear.

I try them on and they fit perfectly.

So, I buy them.

After a detour to Dior where Frances decided to spend a whole lot of money on perfume, we find ourselves at Victoria’s Secret.

Evelyn leads again. She walks in like she owns the place, running her fingers over lace bralettes and silk nightgowns. Frances browses with mild amusement, while I stand awkwardly near the perfume section, pretending I'm not here.

Evelyn holds up a black lace corset and wiggles her eyebrows. “Ted would approve.”

I glare. “Put that down.”

Frances chuckles. “She’s not wrong.”

“I hate both of you.”

But somehow, I still leave with a matching silk robe set in deep plum.

Because, apparently, shopping with them is some kind of mind-control exercise and by the time we’re done, the trunk of Evelyn’s car is a graveyard of luxury shopping bags.

I slump into the passenger seat, exhausted.

Frances slides into the back, inspecting a receipt. “Well, spent so much.”

Evelyn shrugs. “That’s the point.”

My phone buzzes.

Lily: You alive?

Me: Barely. My sisters just treated Rodeo Drive like a battlefield.

Lily: So, how much did you drop?

Me: Too much.

Evelyn peers over my shoulder, reading the text. “Not enough.”

I make a face, swating her away.

By the time we get home, I’m ready to sleep for a decade. Evelyn opens the trunk and I pick up my bags and head in. I see the door man rush out of course to help Evelyn with hers.

Walking into my room, I dropped the bags by my bed, kick off my loafers and collapse onto my bed, ready to nap the entire ordeal away but then I hear a soft knock on my door almost immediately.

I hear Evelyn’s voice. “You got a package.” She walks in.

Frowning, I drag myself up. She’s holding a sleek black box, ribbon tied with precision.

"I am not expecting anything. " I say. She gives me a blank stare.

“From?” I ask.

“Take a wild guess.” Evelyn hands it over, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Your fiance.”

“What?” I'm surprised.

“Looks expensive.” She smirks.

“Open it.” She says walking over to my bedside, placing the box on my bed.

Frances appears in the doorway too, arms crossed. “What did he send?”

I guess we are all curious now. I pull the ribbon loose and lift the lid. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, is a dress.

A deep midnight blue Valentino Crepe dress.

It is stunning I have to admit. Definitely something I would wear.

There’s a note resting on top.

I pick it up.

”It seems to me you enjoy wearing dark colors so, I figured I’d save you the trouble of picking one.

Dinner, Tomorrow. Just us.

Try not to look too miserable.

- Ted”

I stare at it. Evelyn takes it from my hand and reads it out loud.

Frances whistles low. “That’s... unexpected.”

Evelyn grins. “I like him already.”

I don’t.

I don’t like that he’s playing a game I haven’t figured out yet and I definitely don’t like that I’m considering showing up.