Page 28 of Best Served Hot

“I know. I was invited, but I told them I had waaay too much to do to be able to spend time playing golf,” she said. “Dad told me I could use his printer and his fancy stationery to print out some poems I wrote about how yoga makes different pets feel to circulate at my launch party coming up, but I couldn’t figure it out, so he said you could help.”

Wonderful. Because I didn’t have enough to do today. I jiggled my mouse to wake my computer up from sleep and could already see a screen of emails demanding my attention. Including one from Bennett. My heart did a funny sort of flutter at his name.

Not. Good.

“I hope I can handle getting everything done. That’s why I got here so early, so I’d have the rest of the day,” Emerson Leigh was saying. “Like, I have to pick my color scheme for the party.”

I waited for her to go on, but she didn’t. “What else?”

She gave me a disgruntled look. “That’s a lot. I have to pick colors that not only match my dress without being too matchy but also flatter my complexion and reflect the themes of my business while not clashing with any of them.”

“Right,” I said, but my mind was already back on my email. Or really, back on Bennett. Hopefully, that flutter just meant I was going to have a heart attack and not that I was developing anything worse, like feelings for him.

Though really . . . would that be the worst thing in the world? Maybe we were from different places, maybe even different planets, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t be . . . couldn’t be . . .

I didn’t know where I wanted that sentence to end up. My thoughts were as mixed-up as the apple, hard-boiled egg, goat cheese, and steelhead trout salad I’d gotten once at Sweetgreen when my brain short-circuited in front of the make-your-own options. (The salad barista—is that what they’re called?—had asked me if I was totally sure twice.)

That unsavory thought salad continued tossing as I helped Emerson Leigh format a few of her poems for the printer and then print out a shit ton of copies, all in color. I’d probably need to replace the printer ink. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss. “I’m trying to decide which one to read first, but it’s like Sophie’s choice,” she said, reclining against the counter and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead like she was about to swoon from the effort. “What do you think? Should I read this one about dog yoga, since dogs are really popular, or fish yoga, since it’s the most different out of all the pets?”

I couldn’t resist, especially because I’d asked last time and hadn’t gotten an answer. “How does a fish do a yoga class?”

She blinked at me, frowning like I’d asked her the main ingredient in apple pie. “It’s not that complicated. You know, Bennett asked me the same thing. You just—” She squinted at the stationery I was inserting into the printer. “Julie, is that upside down?”

It was, probably because she’d raised the subject of Bennett. I turned it the right way, then took a deep breath, licking my suddenly dry lips. “Hey, so Bennett dated your sister, Maisie, right? Just curious, but is he dating anyone now?” He’d mentioned needing more people to go out to eat with, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dating anyone. He could be dating someone on a cleanse or a vegan or whatever.

“Why do you want to know?” Her eyes were wide but pleasantly interested.

Because if he is, I can stop these thoughts right in their tracks. “Just curious. I’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately, and he hasn’t mentioned anyone. And I’m seeing him again tonight for another review and wanted to see if . . . um . . . I should order something extra for him to take to his girlfriend?” Weak.

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it. The girls in our circle don’t typically eat all that much.”

“Oh.” I wanted to make a snarky comment about that, but it was just . . . so sad. “I see.” The printer chugged away in the background. “Well, do you know if he’s coming to your party?”

“Why?”

Good Lord, she wasn’t making this easy. “Because if he had a girlfriend, he’d probably be bringing her, right? So did he ask for a plus-one?”

Emerson Leigh grabbed one of the printouts and stared down at it. “No.”

I sighed out some of my tension. I hadn’t even realized I’d been tense. “Then he probably isn’t dating anyone. Not anyone serious, anyway.” My mind whirled. I imagined showing up at Emerson Leigh’s party, which for some reason had a winter theme, sparkly faux icicles (fauxcicles?) dripping from the ceiling, in a glittery blue dress like Elsa’s from Frozen. Bennett would be there, and somehow he’d have known ahead of time to wear a matching sparkly blue tie with his dark gray tailored suit. He’d extend his arm, and I’d take it, and—

“I wonder where I could get a dress like that.” I didn’t realize it was me who’d spoken until Emerson Leigh turned to me, thick blond brows furrowed in confusion. I blinked, then tried to clarify. “I just want to make sure to look really nice for your party. For . . .” I couldn’t say for Bennett. “I mean, I just want to look really nice.”

Emerson Leigh stared at me. Squinted. Cocked her head. I was about to ask her if she was okay when she finally said, “Well, your outfit has to figure into the color scheme. So if you have any input on what colors look good on you, you should let me know before I pick them out.”

I blinked. The printer whirred impatiently, asking for more paper. “There’s a dress code?”

Emerson Leigh grabbed a stack of stationery and shoved it into the tray. Upside down, but I didn’t correct her. “Obviously, the people working the party will need to look uniform.”

“Working the party?” I thought back to the e-vite she’d talked about, but I hadn’t actually dug it out of my email and read it.

“Of course. Dad said you’d be happy to help serve drinks and hand out printouts and things.” Those green eyes widened innocently. “I’m sure he’ll pay you for it, or whatever, since I know that’s really important to you.”

Her words settled over me with a cold clarity. She hadn’t invited me to her party as a guest. As a friend. I was an employee. From a whole different planet than her and her other guests.

It would do me good to remember that.

I forced a smile as I yanked her printouts free from the machine. “Here you go.”