Isadora
“Okay, birthday girl. Don’t make me drag you.” Mariana nudged me with her elbow as I hesitated, standing in front of the entrance to the boutique.
I rolled my eyes. “You already dragged me.”
We'd left later for a boutiqueafter I had called her, and then a salon next, in preparation for the party ahead.
She smirked. “You’re welcome.”
“I said yes to dinner, not to being dressed like a barbie doll.”
She gasped. “Excuse you, I pride myself in having an exquisite taste.”
“That’s debatable.”
Mariana snatched a dress off the rack and held it against me. “This. It’s giving cartel goddess.”
“It’s giving too much skin.”
“Perfect.”
I stared at the fabric. “It’s see-through.”
“Only in the right places,” she said, winking. “Try it on.”
I groaned but grabbed it. “If I walk out looking a mess, I’m blaming you.”
“You won't, trust me.”
I changed and stepped out of the fitting room, crossing my arms as she turned and gasped.
“I hate how good that looks on you.”
“I feel naked.”
“Hot naked.”
“Is
