Chapter 22: Keeping It Unprofessional

The absolute last thing in the world I want to do is drag Roman around with me as I try on a bunch of dresses.

"I... I was just going to order a couple of options online and return the one I didn't like," I tell him.

He frowns. "Felicia, Hollywood Saves! is less than a week away."

"And we live in a world where one-day shipping exists."

"Do you really want to represent yourself and this magazine in something you ordered off of some discount site?"

I know I shouldn't be getting prickly over this, but I can't help myself.

"Not all of us are billionaires," I hiss, praying my few remaining coworkers around here aren't listening in. "Some of us aren't even sure if we'll have a job next week, and we can't afford to blow our entire savings on a dress. Not if we want to make sure we can eat next month."

For a second - a split second - he looks properly admonished. Or maybe that's just my overly optimistic imagination, because just as quickly, his expression is as controlled as it ever wa