Tangled Trust (The Lust List: Kaidan Stone #2) by Nova Raines

address to her butler and then makes another call.
    I glance back at the rack of dresses, yearning to find out if any of them fit, as Char calls her beauty salon. In a minute flat, she’s namedropped both her mom and Kaidan Stone to secure us both appointments an hour from now. She gives me a satisfied smile and a quick hug when she’s done.
    “Your house will be clean, and you’ll look amazing before he gets here.”
    “I can’t let you do this… I can’t pay you back.”
    “Sure you can.” She grins and pokes me in the chest with a finger. “I’m sure I’ll be getting an invite to the afterparty tonight, right?”
    I roll my eyes. But her enthusiasm has gotten to me, and a little flutter of excitement lights up in my belly at the thought of attending this show as Kaidan’s date. My resolve has melted into a puddle on the floor. Sure, I’m still mad at him for last night, but maybe he made an honest mistake and lost track of time at work. Maybe he has a good excuse for being seen at the cafe with Peyton. I never even gave him a chance to explain.
    And if anyone doubts that his interest in me is real, they won’t after tonight. Tonight, the whole world will see us together.

    Two and a half hours later, my penthouse is sparkling, and Char and I are trying to pick out my gown for the night.
    I’m starting to sweat a little as I try on the gold gown for the fifth time, and I dab at my damp forehead lightly, trying not to smear the perfect makeup job Char’s hastily hired artist did. The guy picked all the perfect shades, bringing out my eyes, covering every last freckle with airbrush foundation. I’ve never looked this flawless.
    Char zips up the gold gown carefully, and I turn in front of the mirror.
    “You didn’t have to get the lowlights,” Char says again.
    I sigh. “Cut it out. You said they looked good at the salon!”
    “They look amazing. I just don’t like that you’re letting Peyton get to you. You’re hotter than her. You are not her doppel.”
    My hair’s in a complicated updo, and I pat it, looking at the light brown lowlights I had the stylist add. My hair is still very blond—it just has some depth to it. Unlike Peyton. Har har.
    With my lowlights, and the freckles over the bridge of my nose covered with foundation, and the airbrushed contouring bringing out my high cheekbones, I barely look like Peyton. And I’m happier for it. I’m sick of the comparisons.
    “What do you think of the gold?” I ask, changing the subject. I try to twirl, but it’s so tight, I mostly shuffle.
    “You didn’t try on the silver yet. Just try it.”
    “It’s too out there. No one’s wearing stuff like that. I can’t pull it off.”
    “Try it.” She grabs the dress off the rack and brings it over to me.
    She helps me out of the gold, and I reluctantly step into the silver.
    She zips it up and whistles. “This is the one! You look like a princess from the 1920s. Or some kind of Grecian goddess.”
    I try to twirl, and the dress easily moves with me. The front scoops low, revealing quite a lot of cleavage, and sheer straps wrap over my shoulders. Intricate silver beadwork covers the front and back, and the skirt flows in layers from my hips to the floor. It looks way better than I thought it would. But Char and I scanned all the recent red carpet looks while we were at the salon, and this is way off the mark.
    “I’m not trying to start a trend, Char. I’ve never even heard of this designer. Calypso Day? Who is that? I just want to look nice.”
    “You look freaking amazing . It came with this,” she says, and holds up a thin beaded headband.
    “No.”
    “Try it.”
    “No.”
    She ignores me and very carefully pulls the headband over my updo and arranges it so it wraps around my forehead. It really does complete the look. I’m… otherworldly. In a good way.
    “Well?” Char throws her hands wide.
    “Okay, you’re right. I love it.”
    Char strikes a pose and checks her own hair and