Money For Something

20 - Rich Girl

**Willow**

"Do you make all of your clothes?" Kim asked me as she shifted back and forth in front of the mirror examining the alteration I'd done on her dress.

"Not necessarily but I do alter a lot of things to make them my own. Plus, I buy a lot of vintage and second hand stuff. It comes with being so small, and that my parents were pretty poor for quite a bit of my childhood. My mom made a lot of my clothes or altered second hand stuff and as I got older I helped her. It got me used to having original things."

"Well, my childhood was stupidly privileged, my mother dressed me in designer labels, but it was all so bland, I hated the clothes she made me wear. They were boring as hell, not to mention that they made me look like a lump." She twitched the newly slimmed and shortened hemline into place.

The dress had been on a sale rack when Kim had admired the fabric but hated the style. Clearly everyone else who'd visited the store had the same idea because the reduction on it was crazy. Even then, the price of it had been an eye opener. Kim and Lucy shopped in a whole other league to me.

They'd been busy commiserating each other on finding something that was perfect but . . . not, when I opened my stupid mouth and told Kim I could alter and update the dress for her if she loved the fabric that much. To my vast surprise she hadn't hesitated to grab it.

"I know, I know. Boo hoo. Poor little rich girl. I sound like such a bitch when I complain about my childhood, which is why I generally avoid mentioning it all," Kim said with a wry smile.

"Yeah, just look at you in your homemade dress. Spoiled AF!" I teased.

"Ha! Mock my homemade dress all you like, I don't care, because I love it." Her eyes roved over her own reflection. "Seriously, thank you. It's amazing."

"You're welcome," I said with a broad smile. Kim might bitch about the designer labels she'd grown up in, but her style now was effortlessly cool, she had plenty of Instagram stans out there who agreed with me. It gave me the warm fuzzies to think that she appreciated something I'd made for her.

"Is it safe to come in or will Van break my face?" Ace called through the bedroom door. I'd brought the dress out to the pool house so Kim could try on the finished product.

"Come in, everyone's decent," Kim said turning away from her reflection.

"Damn it, there go my fantasies about what girls do at slumber parties," Ace grinned as he opened the door. Rhiannon gurgled and waved the drumstick he'd given her at him.

"Shut up Ace." Kim rolled her eyes. "First of all – you're a pig. Secondly – this isn't a slumber party."

Ace wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and nuzzled into my neck before standing up straight and tucking me under his arm. "First of all, Kim, it's my fantasy and secondly . . . I have nothing. I repeat, it's my fantasy."

"Pervert." I dug my fingers into his waist and wriggled them. He buckled over and dodged away from me.

"No fair Petal, you know all my sensitive spots!"

Did I ever!

I'd spent a deeply enjoyable few days discovering all of Ace's delicate areas. Once we'd started the and-so-forth we'd barely come up for air. Ace had bitterly complained when Kim and Lucy had essentially kidnapped me to drag me out on the shopping expedition that had resulted in Kim's dress purchase. I couldn't hold back an evil gurgle of amusement as he ducked away from the wriggling fingers I extended in his direction.

'You two are sickening," Kim groaned with a fond look.

"You mean fully sick," Ace said with a bad approximation of a surfer dude.