Getting ready for the White Party, Poppy was elated. Her brother was laying on the bed in Tate's arms as they helped her to choose what dress she should wear. Roman had set her up with the celebrity treatment with her own wardrobe and beauty stylist.
"What about this one?" she asked holding up an all-white dress to her tiny frame to show the men.
With a thumbs down, Tate shook his head no, and Rick agreed.
"Sis, that's ugly. Are you going on a date or a trip to Amish country?"
The stylist groaned as she side-eyed Rick. "Sir, I'm a trained stylist. This is top-of-the-line fashion from only the best designers."
"Yeah, and my sister can out sew any of the crap you brought on that rack. She's going to be on the arm of the hottest guy at this party. She needs to turn heads, not make them want to gag."
"Hey," Tate pouted. "What about me?"