Free Thin Lies (Donati Bloodlines #1) by Bethany-Kris

mother’s voice. She hid her reaction by
turning to face the mirror and making sure her fake smile was plastered back on
when she met her reflection.
    “Really,
Mom. You think this is lovely?” Emma asked.
    She
didn’t even bother to hide her disdain.
    The
princess-style ball gown was big enough to hide four grown men under the skirt.
It swept the floor like the bottom of a swinging bell when she moved even the
slightest bit. A sleeveless, sweetheart cut neckline showcased her neck and
collarbones. Nothing was holding the dress up but for the corset in the back
nearly choking her to death.
    The
dress had a mixture of crystals, pearls, and other beadwork that covered the
skirt and bodice. Emma couldn’t look this way or that way without seeing a
cascade of colors glaring off a window, mirror, or wall.
    The
damn thing would blind somebody.
    “Well,
it is a little too white,” her mother muttered.
    Emma
glanced up at the ceiling, praying silently. God, give me the fucking
strength …  
    It
didn’t help.
    “White,
Mom? That’s the problem?” Emma asked.
    “You
have to wear off-white. You know why. And also, ivory is a terrible color on
you.”
    “Mom,
this dress is ugly.”
    “It
is not, Emmy!”
    “It
looks like something a beauty queen puked up with her last meal.”
    Minnie
pursed her lips, clearly unhappy with Emma’s reaction. “See, this is why I
wanted you to come dress shopping. Your tastes are very different from mine.”
    Emma
held back from snorting.
    Different
was one way to put it. Her mother believed the bigger something was, the better
it would be.
    No
doubt, her mother had set it in her head to convince Emma on this sort of
style. Honestly, the little shoe horn with the pointy handle hanging off the
wall looked like a good instrument to inflict a deadly enough wound to get
herself out of this hell.
    Emma
did smile that time.
    Calisto
was right.
    She
was a little dramatic.
    Emma
waved at the skirt of the dress. “Less pouf, Mom. Less beads and shiny things.
I want sleeves, capped at least. Something to make me feel like my tits aren’t
going to pop out and give everyone a show when I bend over.”
    “Emma,”
her mother scolded. “Your mouth, my God.”
    “Ask
the woman to find another dress. This one isn’t it.”
    Minnie
scowled. “Fine. But it does look nice.”
    “If
I were a debutant on show, it would be perfect.”
    “Now
you’re starting to offend me, Emmy.”
    Her
mother had been a debutant from a well-to-do political family that had a hand
in a crime syndicate down south. Minnie had met Emma’s father during college
when George had gone down south for business under his father’s request.
Twenty-five years in Vegas had cured most of Minnie’s southern quirks and
verbal expressions, but an occasional “bless your heart” still slipped through
with just the right amount of sarcasm behind it.
    “Fine.
I’m sorry. It’s a beautiful dress,” Emma said. “But not for me.”
    “You’re
not sorry,” Minnie muttered, still staring longingly at the gown. “Another one,
then?”
    “Something
different this time. Not something you want to wear, Mom.”
    Minnie
conceded with a huff. Pushing up from the couch, her mother disappeared out of
the private sitting area, likely to find the woman who owned the shop again and
search for another gown. With her mother out of sight, Emma’s frustrations grew
all over again at the situation she was currently in.
    Dress
shopping.
    For her wedding gown.
    A
wedding happening soon.
    “Yes,
George,” Minnie said as she came around the corner with a phone pressed to her
ear and no dress in hand. She waved at her daughter and pointed to the phone
like Emma was supposed to know what in the hell was going on. With her mother
and father, it could be anything. The two got off on their occasional spats. It
was kind of unnerving. “I told you, I left the goddamn ticket on your—”
    Minnie’s
words cut off as her gaze narrowed. “Don’t you