After an afternoon of lovemaking, Kyla was ready by 8 pm. She chose an Emilio Pucci dress—strapless, of course, no bra—and a pair of Louboutin nude peep-toe heels that added an extra four inches to her frame. She spritzed on her favorite jasmine perfume, then studied the small stash of jewelry she'd brought with her.
She had a few costume pieces, but none of them looked quite right. She hesitated over the pearl-drop necklace her mother had given her when she'd turned twelve. The necklace had belonged to her grandmother, but Kyla's mom had added a tiny paw-print charm that left the younger version of herself swooning with delight.
Kyla's mom had slurred her way through the wedding story as she presented the necklace to her daughter. "Love's fine and shit, but don't count on men to give you what you need," she'd mumbled. "Men leave, you know. Can't trust them to stick around and take care of you, so you've gotta get out there yourself and grab life by the balls."
