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Day of the competition. Earlier that day.
Damn, am I exhausted.
It has been weeks since Dillan and I hooked up, and I spend every moment I’m not working practicing for the competition and sewing my costume. Each night I pass out before my head hits the pillow, and it takes me longer to get out of bed the next morning.
My thoughts of that night with Dillan Maxwell become less and less frequent as more important things take its place. Marlene had had a bit of a setback when one of the girls she hired decided not to take the job, and another had quit after only a week. As such, she had asked several of us to work overtime to fill in, and since that often means a lot more money, I immediately offered.
I don’t usually have regrets, but after working about seventy hours in one week, I definitely wish I hadn’t volunteered to work more.
“You don’t look so good,” Pippa comments when I shuffle out of my room.
“I don’t feel it,” I admit. “I’m flippin’ tired.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve been working yourself to death. Elizabeth Caroline Moore, you need a break.”
“Not possible. Things are just amping up at work. Not to mention I won’t get any vacation days for some time.”
I open the refrigerator, but my stomach churns at the idea of eating anything. The competition is tonight, and I’m a nervous wreck.
“I get that, but you need to rest when you get home,” Pippa says. “You’re burning the candle at both ends.”
“I’m fine, Pippa Mildred Sanchez. I promise.” I close the refrigerator without grabbing anything.
“I’m not dropping this.”
“But I said the magic word,” I whine. Yes, I actually whine.
“I don’t care.” Pippa sounds more serious than I’ve ever heard her before. “That word doesn’t work when it comes to your health.”
“My health is fine,” I insist.
“Doubt it. You’re super pale, and you’ve barely been eating. Your boobs look smaller.”
“They do not.”
“They sure do.”
“Stop looking at my boobs.”
“Ooookay.”
“I’m just not hungry.” It’s too damn early for such a serious conversation. I’m irritated with her for starting on me the second I woke up. “Get off my back, Pippa. I’m not in the mood.”
She raises her eyebrows at my tone.
My words had come out much harsher than I intended. I sigh and rub my tired eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
Pippa pulls me into a hug. “I know. And I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. I’m just really worried about you.”
“Once the competition is over, things should ease up a bit. I hope.”
“You hope?”
“I mean, we’re still busy, and one of the girls left, so staff-wise we’re a little short…”
“Lizzie, you can’t keep going this way. I know you want to work, but saving money shouldn’t come at the expense of your health.”
“I can handle it, Pippa.”
