Some people love getting dressed up. They enjoy putting on that glitzy dress that weighs ten pounds, makes you itch in a thousand places, causes you to sweat all while forcing you to walk properly if you want to look like a princess instead of a fluff ball of material. Add a pair of deathtrap heels and you've finished your glam up.

The dress is just the final touch of the fancy filter process. You have to do makeup that emphasizes your beauty without looking like your eyes are rubbed in a pile of ash after you destroyed an entire kingdom in a war. It's a fine line between looking like a hooker and looking like a clown. You have to land somewhere in between. Somewhere that says, "I totally dress up every day" and not "I don't have a clue what I am doing." It was a balance that I hadn't quite figured out yet.

Then you have to add jewelry and an elaborate hairstyle that matches your overall look and doesn't look like a toddler was in charge of doing it. Some people work VERY hard to pull off that glamorous look, transforming themselves like those anime transformation sequences where they go from a normal everyday girl into a glittery goddess of power and beauty. If it was as simple to turn into the sparkle version of yourself as pushing a button or saying a catchphrase, I think I'd like getting dressed up too.

But it isn't easy. It takes FOREVER and halfway through I tend to lose motivation. But you can't stop halfway through or else your hair is half curled and you only have makeup on half of your face. And unless it's crazy makeup and hair day somewhere, that won't fly.

So after angry cleaning my entire apartment for obvious reasons named Aiden, I began operation "transformation into a fancy version of myself." One of Sander's other writers had their books made into a movie and I was given a ticket to the red carpet event. SQUEE.

If it wasn't such a big deal, I would have tried to get away with showing up in a nice pair of dress pants and a blouse paired with a pair of cute flats. But my token book tour outfit wasn't going to cut it. Sanders had to tell me that three times before I finally agreed to wear a dress. And three more times before I agreed to her outfit suggestion. A long yellow flowy Grecian style dress that would probably take a team to put me in. BOO.

I curled my long blond hair and did my best to make my makeup look smokey instead of terrifying, (which depending on what lighting I stood in, probably made me look like an ash princess one moment and a deranged clown the next).

I was struggling into my dress, the long tangled-up material, causing my arms to get trapped halfway through the opening when three knocks came from my front door. "Hold on!" I shouted through the dress material, my arms feeling like they belonged to a T-Rex as I tried to shimmy inside.

After several unflattering poses, and grunts of determination, I got the material over my head. Reaching over my shoulder, I stretched down to tug the zipper closed, but came to a shocking revelation. I couldn't reach the zipper. Crap!

I ran in a circle like a puppy trying to catch his tail as panic set in. The lady at the store had helped me with the dress the first time I had tried it on, which meant...

I turned towards the door and groaned. I swear... the universe hates me on a Mean Girls level.

After several more tries, I relented and walked to the door. Opening it a crack, with the chain still on, I peeked my head through. "Ready?" Aiden asked, glancing down at his watch.

"Um... almost," I replied with feigned confidence. "I need help."

Aiden looked past me into my apartment, eyes scanning what little he could see. "Are you alright? Is someone inside?"

I shook my head, amused. "No. I think if someone was in here, I'd be screaming and you'd be bad at your job."

"Then what—."

Turning, I interrupted him by motioning to the zipper that sat WAY too far down my lower back for me to reach. Like, barely above my underwear line, level low. Like I can't believe it had come to me asking him, level low. I had never been so thankful that Aiden couldn't see the sudden blush that filled my entire face.

"Would you zip me up?" There was a pregnant pause. He didn't answer, which of course led me to keep talking. "I can't reach the zipper or else I'd do it."

"I can't—."

I stuttered on, irritated that he was making excuses for such an easy request. All he had to do was tug up a zipper. "I know it's awkward." I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck, the crick from sleeping weirdly making it hard to think. "I don't know why they make it impossible to put on fancy dresses by yourself. It's like they forget that in modern-day society, people dress themselves."

"That's not—."

"I mean we don't have servants and even if we did, I don't want to be dressed like a barbie doll—."

"Summers!" My jaw snapped shut at his use of my last name. The sound of it coming out of his mouth made my heart jolt over several beats before landing in a crash of adrenaline. It was such a shocking feeling that I couldn't move for a second, trying to process the mix of panic and delight in my chest.

After several beats, I looked up at him from over my shoulder. He peered at me from the crack in the door, eyes made of twin ocean storms. "I can't zip you up."

I couldn't breathe. Why can't he zip me up? Is it against one of his bodyguard rules? Am I actually flustering him or something? Nah, that's not it. He's seen my apartment. "What?" I blinked up at him, confused.

He motioned to the chain on the door. "I can't reach inside."

I had been so busy chattering like a dumb-dumb that I hadn't realized he literally couldn't help me if he had tried. "Oh, right. Duh. Sorry." I mumbled, averting my gaze as I fumbled for the chain in the door with shaky fingers.

Aiden filled the doorway, waiting patiently for me to turn around. I pulled my curls over one shoulder and turned again, showing him my bare back, trying really hard not to open my mouth and say something stupid.

His fingers found my zipper and slowly zipped me up, careful to not catch any material in the zipper. When he finished, he cleared his throat. "Done."

I turned around and offered him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

He nodded, his face stoic as he took a step back and glanced everywhere else but at me. "Ready?"

"Just about," I replied as I hiked up my dress and ran back into my room to grab my strappy heels, mentally preparing to die from an embarrassing fall while wearing them. Sitting on the edge of my couch, I yanked on the first heel.

I glanced up at Aiden from the corner of my eye and saw him looking around, an amused look on his face. "You cleaned," he said when he saw me looking at him.

Pulling on my other heel I stood up. "Yep. Didn't want you to think I was ransacked next time you do a sweep." I walked to the door, plucking up my small black purse as I went.

"Smart. Always better to make it clear," he replied ducking back through the door, waiting for me on the other side, a hint of a grin on his face.

I snorted. "Yeah, you've made that clear," I replied dryly. Locking the door, I turned to look at him. Crossing my arms, I shot him a smirk. "You've become quite chatty. What? No longer a silent shadow?"

His blue eyes flashed and the amusement that had worked its way into his face melted away, leaving behind a wall of stone. A beautiful chiseled statue of perfection that hid everything. He motioned for me to lead the way, to his car.

And now he's reverted back to silent mode. Note to self, don't point it out.

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If you had to get dressed up for an event, what would be your outfit choice? Ballgown? Summer dress? Suit? Button-up shirt and dress pants? Blouse and dress pants?