“You ruined my dress.” “Won’t be needing it where we’re going.” I nudge her across the back seat and follow her in, leaving Gaeton to walk around to the driver’s door. Isabelle slaps my hands away when I reach to fasten her seatbelt. “You can’t be suggesting I’m not wearing clothes for the next two weeks. Don’t be absurd.” Gaeton backs out of the parking spot and heads for the exit. “Depends on how many pieces of clothing you want ruined, Isabelle. Your choice.”
