10

Teagan stepped into the next dress and spun. “What do you think?”

The satin fabric clung to her hips and hung from her shoulders in gentle swoops. The color of plump lemons, unblemished and radiant. “You’re stunning.”

“Thank you, thank you. It’s got a real How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days vibe to it, right? Eat your heart out Kate Hudson.”

“Good to see you’ve held on to your modesty,” Victoria said, hanging her robe on an empty hook. She stepped into her own gown as Teagan twirled in front of the mirror. Ever the center of attention.

Victoria’s selection wasn’t meant to hide in the shadows either. A spectacular trumpet-style dress with a corseted bodice and thigh-high split. Unlike Warren’s outdated beliefs about motherhood, a good thigh split never went out of style.

Was she really comparing Warren to her evening wear?

Maybe her righteous indignation was tainted with a slight veil of pettiness after all, but Victoria had earned that grudge.

“Damn, Mrs. Tate. New do and showing a little leg? Won’t the Puritans at the town hall cast their pitchforks and torches?”

“No one’s burning tonight, sorry to disappoint,” she said with an exaggerated aw-shucks snap.

Teagan grasped her shoulders and leveled a serious stare. “Tell the truth, what’d you do with my sister? Are you one of those body-snatching aliens?”

“No.”

“Pod person?”

“Zip me, asshole,” Victoria said.

“Hold on, hold on, the profanity, heavens to Betsy,” she teased. “Hold your hair up for me. Oh, wait,” she said, and cackled like a hyena.

“You’re hilarious. You’ll have a solid career in comedy when the lipos dry up.”

“If there’s one thing that never dies, it’s the lipos. I had two today. The last one? Lipo—for her—as an anniversary gift—for him.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Husband encouraged her. Happens more than you’d think. She passed the BDDQ with flying colors, though” Teagan said.

“You’re screening your patients now?” Victoria asked, eyebrows lifted in surprise. From what Teagan would have her understand, cosmetic surgeons weren’t required to run psych evals on their patients, but she did her best to establish realistic expectations.

“No. Her therapist sent me the body dysmorphic disorder questionnaire after our initial consult, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way.” She bunched the two panels of Victoria’s dress together and zipped as she spoke. “She followed me on TikTok and practically begged me to film her for the channel. Got some great shots, but it never ceases to amaze me how far people will go to make their partners want them.”

Victoria was quiet for a solid minute before she said anything. She’d never tried especially hard to impress Warren. Sure, she’d felt an attraction in the beginning, call it a spark or butterflies, that wasn’t the point. Victoria was not the same as that woman. She wouldn’t compromise her desires to make Warren happy.

Or was she lying to herself?

Hadn’t the vanilla manicure and long blonde hair been for his benefit as much as hers? Hadn’t she yielded to him for years? How was what she’d done any different than anniversary liposuction?

“Don’t you ever get tired of playing to vanity?” she asked, crisply dismissing that train of thought.

“Everybody’s vain, Tor. Some of us just don’t care to hide it.” Teagan flopped on the plastic-covered bed as Victoria moved to the vanity. “Here’s a better question: How do you sleep on this thing? Like a giant bag of marshmallows.”

“I don’t sleep.”

“You don’t sleep.” She waited a beat. Victoria waited it out. Knowing her sister, another diatribe was brewing. “I don’t want to tell you how to live your life—”

There it was. “Then don’t.” She couldn’t dull the sharp edge to her tone. She didn’t want to. Teagan was venturing on a land mine of loaded questions, and Victoria was willing to detonate them all with the slightest bit of pressure.

“But you remember what happened the last time.”

The last time.

The days before their father had passed flashed violently. The thin skin on the back of his hand tugging around the IV port. The bruising under his eyes. The raspy breath as he whispered to her.

Please.

“This is not the same thing,” Victoria said with a note of finality. “Not even close.”

“What do you mean ‘you don’t sleep?’ ”

“Forget I said anything.”

“I just think that—”

“Enough.”

Teagan clapped her mouth shut. The mood stayed tense, though, picking at Victoria’s fraying nerves when what she really needed to focus on was how the next few hours were going to unravel with Warren.

“Let’s go downstairs,” Victoria said. “Have a glass of wine with me.”

Teagan clucked her tongue inside her cheek, yellow dress shimmering in the soft lighting. “You had me at wine.”