Home > Hell on Heels (Hot Damned #3)(11)

Hell on Heels (Hot Damned #3)(11)
Author: Robyn Peterman

“I was thinking about jeans,” I replied, moving toward the pile of clothes I laid out.

“Jeans?” She groaned in dismay as her eyes went wide with concern. “I was thinking more along the line of Prada or Gucci.”

“Nope.” I smiled. A warm glow settled in my chest as I thought about Hayden. “It sounds pretty casual. I don’t want to overdress.”

There was no way I was going to tell Stella he wanted me to wear flying clothes. Hell, I didn’t even know what that meant. I’d never told anyone about my desire to fly except Hayden and Blanche.

“You don’t think he’s going to take you cliff diving, do you?” Stella began to sort through the pile, discarding what she didn’t like.

“Lucifer, I hope not.” I prayed that wasn’t his idea of flying. Nevertheless, I was definitely wearing jeans.

Stella pulled a rockin’ pair of dark brown Doc Maarten combat boots, a pair of True Religion jeans, a sleeveless, sheer pale mocha flowing top with a lacy chocolate camisole for underneath. Kind of delicate, feminine biker chick.

“You will be totally hot in this,” she decided. “He’ll be on his knees. Your boobs and ass will be amazing.”

“Maybe I should wear something else.”

“Nope.” Stella laid down the law. “It’s this or you go naked.”

“Fine.” It was absolutely no use to go against Stella once she had her mind made up. With her new powers she could probably dress me however she desired. Furthermore, she had a great fashion sense and I liked what she picked out.

“Go take a shower,” she commanded. “Use that lemony grapefruity shampoo.” She plopped back down on my couch and grabbed the remote. “I’m going to watch me some South Park. I love those guys.”

I rolled my eyes and left her to her program.

***

An hour later I was ready. Clean, dressed and nervous as Hell. I never wore much makeup, but Stella insisted on mascara, a little blush and some pale pink sparkly lip gloss. I glanced in the mirror and liked what I saw. Stella was a genius and she wasn’t afraid to remind me repeatedly. She repaired my chipped black nail polish with some quick dry stuff she had in her purse. We agreed to let my hair fall loose and wild. I did feel pretty and was grateful she was here.

I let myself go to that bad place for a moment realizing Stella was doing all the things a mother should be doing. Motherless children often ached for a maternal figure, I had read. I needed to get over it and buck up and be grateful for what I did have. . .and I was grateful. Not everyone had a father who loved them, a ton of sisters that they adored for the most part and the greatest best friend in the universe.

“Damn girl, you are so pretty it makes my teeth hurt.” Stella admired her handiwork.

“Shut up,” I groaned. The reality of what I was about to do hit me. “I think I’m going to hurl.”

I sat down on one of the dining room chairs and put my head between my knees. Stella rubbed my back and made tsking noises.

“I believe I told you to shut up,” I mumbled from between my legs. “I can’t do this. I need to call him and tell him not to come.” I shot up and searched for my cell phone.

I spotted it on the coffee table. As I went to grab it, lightning struck and it turned into a banana.

“Stella!” I screamed. “Turn it back. Are you trying to ruin my life?”

“Nope,” she informed me unsympathetically. “I’m trying to help you get a life.”

“You suck.” I sat down on the coffee table with the banana and pouted.

“You suck,” she retorted as she unsuccessfully tried to suppress her laughter.

"It’s not funny,” I yelled, attempting to bite back the smile that was threatening to split my face.

"You need to stop dating BOB."

"Bob?" Who was she talking about? I wasn't dating anyone named Bob. . .

"Your battery operated boyfriend," she replied with an evil grin.

I blushed from head to toe. "I like BOB," I muttered.

“Dixie, do you like Hayden?” Stella’s voice grew very serious.

I ran my hands through my wild mass of hair and sighed. “Yes, I like him. I’m afraid I like him too much. Every time he touches me I feel a jolt of electricity shoot through me and I’m terrified I’m going to say something mortifying.”

“There’s a good chance you’ll say something dumb,” Stella agreed.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I laid back on the coffee table and peeled the banana. “Is this edible?”

“Totally,” she assured me. “Look, if you’re worried about being stupid, just let him do most of the talking. Ask him questions about himself. Guys love to talk about themselves. By the way, Little Missy, this is not just about if he likes you. You are also free to figure out if you really like him,” she said with authority.

“Where’d you learn all that?”

“Cosmo.”

“Does that apply to Demons? That’s a mortal magazine,” I said with a mouth full of banana.

“A guy is a guy is a guy. Mortal, Demon, Angel, whatever.”

Stella stood up to leave. She walked over to my landline and ripped it out of the wall. I groaned.

“I’m simply saving you from yourself,” she smugly informed me. “Your cell phone and land line will be fixed by the time you get home so you can call me and thank me for making you go.” She curtsied and walked to the front door.

   
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