Page 65 of Best Served Hot

I let out that deep breath from before. “You really think so?”

“Yes,” he said. “Now let’s go. Make that call!”

“It’s so early.”

“It’s not that early.”

I took another deep breath. “Okay. Here goes.”

Hopefully, this was the right decision. But I guess I wouldn’t know how it all worked out for another year or so.

Epilogue

ONE YEAR LATER

The sounds of battle, clashing machetes, and screams of pain rang out from the other room. Meanwhile, up in Bennett’s loft bedroom, I’d already admitted defeat. In a manner of speaking. After much straining, squeezing, and a pep talk to my boobs about how maybe they should just shrink for a minute, I’d realized I was not going to be able to zip this dress up myself.

“Bennett!” I called again. “ASAP! Please!”

The sounds of battle paused, a moment of truce, and Bennett trotted in. Even a year after we’d first become an item, my heart still did a little flutter when he entered a room. Especially in the outfit he wore right now. The usual pressed black jeans, but the button-down he’d paired it with was a soft blue-gray, just the shade of his eyes. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly, like he’d actually been swinging a machete and not clicking buttons. “But good news—I got us the Key of Dominion!”

“Nice!” I high-fived him with a resounding slap. I’d joined his guild in Dark Avengers a few months ago after I’d completed all of the introductory quests and raised my new character to a respectable level. With the Key of Dominion, we could progress to the next dungeon. “Now help me zip this up.”

He complied. I sucked in as tight as I could, and after just a little bit of tugging, the zipper ran all the way to the top. I sighed, letting myself loosen up. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He grinned. “Though I’m glad your boobs didn’t listen to you. I quite like them how they are.”

As Bennett called an Uber, I paused in front of the full-length mirror I’d insisted he install on his closet door when I moved in a couple months ago. Not to brag—no, I was in my own head; if I couldn’t brag here, where could I brag?

I looked amazing. I’d found this Sachin & Babi dress for super cheap online, and the silky dark blue fabric hugged the curves I wanted accentuated and flared out to cloak the curves I didn’t. Plus, it had pockets! I’d left my hair natural, letting the waves flow over my shoulders, and touched up my eyes with a little liner and mascara. Smiling, I pulled out my phone for an old-fashioned mirror selfie and posted it. On my way to the gala! Hope to see you there!

The Uber deposited us smoothly outside Calabaza. I took a moment just to soak in how funny it felt to be there with Bennett standing arm in arm, neither of us in disguise.

“Don’t throw any wine on me this time,” Bennett said, as if he were reading my mind.

I smiled up at him. “Then don’t do anything that would make me want to throw wine on you.”

Inside, the party was not quite in full swing. Which was expected, considering we were an hour early. Only a few people moved about, setting up tables and centerpieces, going in and out of the kitchen to make sure the food was on track.

I blinked, and suddenly Emerson Leigh was there in front of me, clipboard and pen in hand. The pen was a standard black Bic, cheap and translucent. Bennett and I had gotten her a fancy pen like his own green-and-gold one after she successfully completed her first six months at A Real Job, but she didn’t like using it. She’d discovered she was a habitual pen chewer.

“How does it look?” she asked, her eyes bright and focused. Her highlighted hair was up in a high, tight ponytail, and she was dressed in a chic heather-colored suit. “One of the chefs called out, so I had to scramble for someone at the last minute. I hope he’s up to the task.”

“I’m sure he is, Emerson Leigh,” I said sincerely. “And really, it was a stroke of genius to rent out a place like Calabaza for this. It looks great.”

It really did. She’d kept a lot of the restaurant’s gold decorations, including many of its little namesake pumpkins, but added so many personal touches to showcase the purpose of the gala: the anniversary of Alice and Kelsey’s start-up. Framed photographs of all the articles showcasing the company, including the one from the Scroll that Bennett had pitched, and gauzy gold netting that swooped over the tables. Attending tonight would be some of the app’s top point holders, people from the restaurants and stores that used the app, and representatives of the shelters and organizations who benefited from the app’s philanthropy.

“I know,” Emerson Leigh said modestly, and, with a tap of her pen cap against her shiny white teeth, she swept off to address some other crisis. I watched after her for a moment, feeling oddly proud.

Alice swept in to replace her. She looked incredible as well, garbed in a knee-length white shift dress that shimmered with silver threads. A shiny barrette tucked her hair away from her face. “How’s my favorite person doing tonight?”

I leaned in for a squeeze. “So proud and impressed by her favorite person.”

“Don’t lie, I know Bennett’s your favorite person now.” Still, her face glowed.

“Not tonight. Tonight it’s all you, baby.”

I wasn’t kidding. When I’d turned down Mr. Decker’s job offer a year ago, I’d been tired of working for the man and wanted to do more to build my own brand. Working for Alice and Kelsey hadn’t just been the best way to do that; it had been a way to do good. I’d been able to harness my knowledge of social media and my connections to help their app blow up in the food world. Jada did a few free promos, too. Places I reviewed got incentives to sign up with the app, and some restaurants would sign up in hopes of getting noticed by people like me or Jada. And now they were super successful. Which was obvious from the mere existence of a gala. Even if it was only “a small gala,” as Alice had directed Emerson Leigh when she hired her to do the planning.