As much as she had sounded trepidatious as she asked, the confirmation that she had to dress up had Daisy grinning for a brief, off-guard moment before she bit her thumb again then ran her hand through her hair. She didn't know why she did that. Maybe she was excited that someone liked her enough to invite her to a dress-up occasion. Nick didn't even let her do that undercover. It was all Yankees games and spilled popcorn for her. Fuck, that was her whole life-- if baseball was anything else. The last time she put a dress on was for the eighth grade dance.
"Fuck, that's soon," she acknowledged, realizing there were bigger things at stake here than what she was going to wear. "Are you excited? Is she nice?" She guessed that was kind of a dumb question; he was marrying her, he must think the bride was nice. Daisy didn't really know anything about her, though, and it seemed like a slightly more viable starting point than 'Is she pretty?'.