I managed to make it to pick Roxie up and arrived at two minutes to seven. Thankfully, she'd told me to dress casually, so it hadn't taken long to change clothes. I'd opted for layered tanks and skinny jeans with a kick-ass pair of black platform heels. My unruly hair piled high on top of my head in a messy knot took more time to perfect than it appeared. With a swipe of gloss across my lips, I assessed myself in the rearview mirror, puckered my mouth to ensure it had just the right pout, and then got out of the car.
When Roxie answered the door, my jaw dropped. I could have dragged her into the house and spent hours having her give me makeup lessons. She was tricked out like a fifties' pin-up girl, and every detail was accounted for, but instead of the polka dot dress, she'd gone for a
