“Nothing. We talked and he gave me a ride home. He’s a nice man. Very gentlemanly.”
“And that’s all?”
“What did you expect me to say? He brought me home and we . . . we did it like monkeys all night long?” Daisy blushed when, after pausing for a beat, her sister roared with laughter.
“Did you really just say ‘did it like monkeys’?” Daisy’s jaw lifted defensively. Daff could be so obnoxious sometimes.
“I said what I said,” she muttered, her voice brittle, and Daff, sensing her embarrassment, tried to tone down her amusement.
“You need to lighten up, Daisy Doodle,” she teased, using the family’s embarrassing nickname for Daisy.
“I would if I wasn’t the constant butt of your jokes.” Okay, Daisy knew she was being a bit unfair; Daff didn’t usually make fun of her. At least not maliciously. It was always just good-natured sibling ribbing.
“I was just teasing you,” Daff said, wounded.
“I know.” Daisy sighed. “I’m sorry, Daff. I’ve been a little oversensitive lately. PMS probably.”
“So what was all that with you and Mason Carlisle last night?”
“We chatted for a bit, I said I was going home, and he offered me a lift. That’s the extent of it . . .” She paused again, thinking she should embellish on that, especially since she was about to be seen in public with the man again in just a few hours’ time.
“Oh.” Daff—bless her heart—sounded disappointed. “He seemed really into you.”
“We are going out to dinner later,” she informed reluctantly and winced when Daff squealed.
“Oh my God! Seriously?”
Daisy shifted uncomfortably before reiterating, “It’s just dinner.”
“Dinner with Mason Carlisle! Shar is going to absolutely shit herself with envy.”
“I don’t care what Shar thinks.”
“What are you going to wear?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, but it does! Lia and I will be over in half an hour to help you get ready.”
“No!” Daisy snapped. “It’s not like that. It’s nothing romantic. It’s just dinner. Between friends. I don’t want you and Lia blowing this out of proportion. I’m wearing jeans, and that’s that.”
“Half an hour, Deedee.” Yet another nickname—an abbreviated, equally horrific version of “Daisy Doodle.”
“Daff, no!” She should have known her sister would make a big deal out of this. “I don’t need your help.”
“See you later,” Daff said cheerily and hung up before Daisy could protest any further.
“God.” Daisy squeezed her eyes shut and resisted the urge to throw her phone across the room. She settled on shaking it instead and screaming in frustration, surprising Peaches out of a snooze. Maybe if she changed out of her comfy sweats and into something dressier before her sisters got here it would dissuade them from once again trying to “pretty her up.”
The thought spurred her into action, and she leapt up from the sofa to dash into her bedroom and frantically throw something on.
When Daff, Lia, and their mother showed up exactly half an hour later, Daisy was hot and flushed but dressed and ready for her dinner.
“You all wasted your time,” she said by way of greeting. “I don’t need your help. I’m dressed already, see?”
“Darling, if there’s one thing I have told you time and time again, just because a woman is dressed does not mean that she is ready,” her mother admonished, leaving a trail of Joy in her wake as she swept past Daisy.
“What she said,” Daff said smugly, leaving her own expensive vapor trail to mingle with her mother’s as she also brushed past a bemused Daisy.
“Hi, Daisy,” Lia greeted with a warm hug. Her middle sister had always been the sweetest, most eager to please of the three daughters. She never saw the bad in manipulative people like Shar and Zinzi and allowed them to walk all over her. Lia’s sweet na?veté was also why Daff, and even Daisy, despite being the youngest, felt protective over her and had tried to curtail the whole Clayton thing back in its nascence.
“Hey, Lia,” Daisy greeted, returning the hug.
“Sorry about this,” Lia whispered. “I tried to stop them, but you know how they get.”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you again for the boots. They were my favorite gift. I don’t think I’ll use any of the other stuff,” she confessed with a blush.
“Not even that gigantic green dildo?” Daisy asked, raising her voice slightly.
“Sh!” Lia covered Daisy’s laughing mouth with her hand as she darted a frantic glance around to see if their mother had overheard, but the older woman was busy fawning over Peaches. The dog was doing her crowd-pleasing, guaranteed-to-get-her-cuddles, two-legged jig. Daisy’s mother, Millicent, was eating it up with a spoon. The older woman adored animals. She didn’t even mind dogs and cats shedding all over her designer dresses.
“Oh, aren’t you too precious for words,” her mother enthused and played right into Peaches’s manipulative little paws by scooping her up and giving her a cuddle. She turned to Daisy, Peaches’s fluffy face squished up against her left cheek, and was immediately back on task.
“So, it’s probably too much to hope that you’ve bought yourself a dress or two recently,” the older woman said with a resigned little sigh.
“I have the dress I wore to Nana’s funeral, but I’m not changing. I think I look okay for dinner with a friend.”
“Daisy, don’t be difficult, and Nana’s funeral was five years ago; that dress will be both dated and too small.”
“Ouch, Mom,” Daisy retorted without much heat.
“I don’t see why I have to pull any punches; you’ve put on a few pounds since then.” Daisy wasn’t going to argue; she had gained a couple of inches around the thighs and bum, but she was pretty much the same weight she had been since high school. She had always been plumper than her sisters, and her mother tended to focus on that a little too much sometimes.