Emily wasnât sure if she would attend the masquerade ball at first, considering parties werenât really her thing. She looked for an excuse to not go, and she couldnât use work for once because she actually had the night off (even though she was technically supposed to be on maternity leave but decided against it for a few more weeks). After convincing from Scarlett, she finally decided to go and wore the dress she had bought for her. âYou promise Iâm not cramping your style, right? I canât drink and Iâll probably be ready to leave by ten oâclock,â Emily said, letting out a laugh. âYou look amazing, by the way. That dress is gorgeous.âÂ
âBabe, the only way youâd cramp my style is if you didnât come with me. Youâre fucking 100% better than 80% of the people in this very room.â Including Darcy who--while she sent him a suit for the ball--she was still very upset with. She flipped her hair over her shoulder before looking down at her dress again. Black is better suited for you and your wide hips, Scarlett Marina, she could hear her mother say. âDonât you think so? I figured instead of looking like a princess, Iâm better suited for the Wicked Witch,â she joked, chuckling. âBut you, sweetie--youâre beautiful. You look like Goddess of the Earth or some shit like that, and youâre not even showing that much cleavage. Kinda proud of you for making it out tonight.â