Miles adjusts his glasses, voice dry. “Outdoors is nice, but you get the weather issue.”
I nod. “What if we did it in the park? Simple, low-key. Less likely to involve ghost-related gastrointestinal distress, you know, like haunted bowling alleys.”
Georgia beams. “I like it. We could do picnic food. I could make little baskets for everyone.”
Brody, now fully invested, leans in. “You really want to cater your own party?”
“I don’t trust anyone else,” she retorts. “And I think Emmett should do the cocktails.”
“I will personally craft a signature drink for each of us,” I promise. “The Miles, vodka and a single lime wedge. The Brody, bourbon, neat, garnished with a tiny American flag. The Georgia, literally anything with caffeine and sugar. And for me, just straight orange juice, so I can remember all the blackmail material for later.”
Everyone laughs, and I make a mental note that I totally need to do this.
Brody sets down his phone, face suddenly all business. “Property update, by the way. The Long Island place closed on Tuesday. It’s ours.”
Miles nods, taking a sip of his mimosa. “Perfect. Did the seller leave the espresso machine?”
“Even better,” Brody says. “They left the fully-stocked wine cellar.”
Georgia makes a squeaky, excited sound. “This is officially the best day of my life. Weekend retreats with wine and cheese parties. What’s better than that?”
I raise my glass. “To Long Island, and all the hangovers it will bring.”
We all clink, even Georgia with her coffee. She takes a sip, then sets the cup down. I watch her for a beat, noticing a jitter under the surface, a charge that isn’t just caffeine.
Miles is the first to say something. “You okay, baby?”
She nods, but her eyes widen a little. “I’m great. Really great.” She glances at the three of us, then down at her hands. “Just, um, enjoying the moment.”
Brody leans in, concern flickering across his face. “Is something wrong?”
Georgia shakes her head, then laughs. “Nope. Not a thing.” She looks at me, and there’s something in her eyes, but she looks away before I can decode it.
What are you hiding from us?
Before I can ask what she’s up to, she turns the spotlight back on me. “Emmett, did you tell them about the gallery thing?”
I roll my eyes, but secretly I love it when she brags on me. “It’s nothing, just a show at a pop-up space in Dumbo. A bunch of pretentious types standing around pretending they’re not there for the free wine and cheese cubes.”
“Yeah, but it’s your show,” she presses, nudging my shin under the table.
Miles tilts his head. “What’s the focus?”
I grin. “Portraits of local weirdos. I’ve already started shooting. You know, just theoddside of people.”
Brody chuckles. “That’s awesome. Ithink.”
Georgia bounces a little in her chair. “They’re going to be amazing. I want to see everything before it goes up.”
“You’ll be my beta test,” I promise. “You can even help with captions. I don’t want to mess up the vibe.”
Miles pours himself a second mimosa and then pauses, offering his glass to Georgia. “You want some?”
She purses her lips, eyeing us, and then shakes her head. “I think I’ll pass today.”
Brody narrows his eyes. “You’re not drinking?”
She shrugs, tucking her hair behind her ear, like she’s suddenly shy. “Not today.”
