SERAPHINA’S POV
Maya had insisted that if I was going on a date—even if it wasn’t officially a “date-date”—I needed to “look hot enough to make him forget his name.”
Her words, not mine.
She’d spent nearly twenty minutes rummaging through my closet with all the intensity of someone diffusing a bomb, tossing aside sweaters and jeans like they’d personally offended her.
When she pulled out a lacy wine-red slip dress I didn’t even remember owning, I’d nearly fainted.
“You expect me to wear that to the movies?”
She’d just arched a brow. “Don’t forget the dinner after. Besides, it’s not about the movie. It’s about the impression you leave with Lucian. He’s not supposed to be able to watch the movie; he’s supposed to be watching you.”
I shook my head. “I’m going to feel so awkward the whole time if I wear that.”
She rolled her eyes and tossed the dress into the back of my closet, where it belonged. “Okay, do you at least have sexy lingerie?”
