Maria stepped into the kitchen, almost scaring me. “What are you up to?" 

“Is the stylist really coming by twelve? I have an important appointment by that time." 

“With who?" 

“It has nothing to do with you.” I snapped angrily. Why was she prying? "I'll do what I can to help my dad restore his company.” I said for a coverup. "What if we do it this way? I send my size to the stylist, she sends me the designs, and I approve. Simple." 

“We're talking about something you'll need in less than twenty-four hours. As much as George doesn't care about you, he cares about your appearance for tomorrow,...