Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Even though I’ve only just stepped through the door, this boutique already feels different.
Kia waves to the woman behind the counter. “Hi, Melissa. This is Cheyenne. She needs a dress for the event on Saturday.”
That’s it. I’m not introduced as that reality star from the show everyone loves to hate on or Britt Benson’s sister.
Just Cheyenne.
It shouldn’t matter, but it does.
We browse for a while. The racks are filled with jewel tones and sleek silhouettes. I run my fingers over the fabrics, feeling slightly out of my depth without a stylist waiting nearby. And yet, it’s unexpectedly freeing. I can choose what I want, and no one is going to nudge me in a different direction.
The bell over the door jingles and two women breeze in.
“Tell me we’re not late,” the blonde says.
Kia grins. “Nope, right on time.”
She hugs Kia before turning to me with a friendly smile. “Hi, you must be Cheyenne. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Lilah.” She points to a brunette. “And that’s Rina.”
I glance between them. “It’s nice to meet both of you.”
Lilah is all warmth, bright eyes, and easy friendliness.
Rina is sharper, although not standoffish. Just observant in a way that makes me feel like she notices everything and files it away for later. She studies me for a second longer, as if trying to take me in. I can’t help but brace, wondering what she sees.
“Okay. I get it now,” she says with a smirk.
“Get what?” I ask, thrown off by the comment.
“One of the team owners mentioned that Knox was playing like a man possessed at practice. And I’m pretty sure I’m staring at the reason for it.”
Heat creeps up my neck, and I shake my head with a forced laugh. “I doubt that had anything to do with me.”
The idea that Rina could be right sends a shiver racing down my spine.
Lilah chuckles before elbowing her friend. “Ignore her, please.”
“I’m not wrong,” Rina says matter-of-factly.
The conversation thankfully ends there as Lilah pulls a dress from the rack and hands it to me. “This is gorgeous. You definitely need to try this one. With your coloring, it would be perfect.”
It’s a deep emerald-green silk that’s both chic and elegant. Maybe a little bolder than what I would’ve chosen on my own.
“Agreed. That definitely has your name written all over it,” Kia adds.
“I don’t know,” I hedge. “It’s a little—”
“Perfect,” Rina interrupts. “Go try it on. You can thank us later.”
With a huffed out laugh, I retreat to the dressing room before I can think better of it. The fabric glides over my skin, skimming my curves without clinging, the neckline dipping just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage.
When I finally step out, all three women stare in silence.
Kia’s eyes widen. “Wow.”
Lilah presses a hand to her chest. “Okay, you look amazing.”
A slow smile curves Rina’s lips. “Knox isn’t going to know what hit him.”
My pulse stutters. “You really think so?”
“Yes,” all three say in unison.
I turn toward the mirror and study my reflection. For a moment, I don’t see the woman from the reality show. The one who wears heavy makeup under bright lights.
I just see me.
“You’re going to buy it, right?” Kia asks. “You really do look stunning.”
I stare in the mirror for a moment longer. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“You won’t be sorry,” Lilah adds. “It’s the perfect choice.”
I meet Kia’s gaze. “What about you?”
That’s when I realize none of them have pulled gowns.
“We’ll try on dresses at the next store,” Lilah says.
I raise a brow. “The next store?”
“Yeah, there’s a maternity shop down the street,” Kia adds.
I turn toward them in surprise. “All three of you are pregnant?”
Color blooms in Lilah’s cheeks. “Yup.”
“Wow.” I pause. “Is there something in the water I need to know about? Or should I just not drink it at all?”
“Railers players are dangerous,” Rina throws in dryly. “That’s what you need to know.”
Lilah’s hand settles on her stomach. “Truth.”
My phone buzzes from the velvet chair next to Rina. I gravitate in that direction before picking it up and staring at the gossip alert that flashes across the screen.
Sharon Benson announces new spin-off show for daughter, Cheyenne. Read all the juicy details here!
My stomach knots until it becomes painful.
Even here, in a quiet Chicago boutique with women who don’t want anything from me, the machine still finds a way to reach in and remind me that my life isn’t entirely my own. I swipe the notification away before any of them catch sight of it.
“Hey, are you okay?” Kia asks.
I force a smile. “Yeah. Just work stuff. No big deal.”
It’s a relief when no one pushes, asks invasive questions, or tries to pry the story out of me. They just let it go. And somehow, that nearly undoes me more than if they had.