“Oh, I hope you get some bedroom attention tonight.” Barbie did a little shimmy shake. “In that dress, he’d be stupid not to.”
Em had gone with an easy-breezy sundress with a white bodice that she would never wear around Fiona because things. Would. Get. Spilled. The dress flowed beautifully into a pastel yellow skirt that cascaded to just below the knee.
Lauren had helped her pick some white strappy sandals to complete the look.
Em had even used the spray tan in a can stuff Cress recommended, so her legs wouldn’t blind any random strangers. Or Ethan.
“It’s not like that at all.” Though Em was sort of missing the idea of intimacy like that. She didn’t think she would…and yet.
“You, my friend, need to get laid.” Barbie stopped poking at her fingernail stickers with her tongue and reached into her cleavage to pull out a folded paper.
“After Ethan and I break up, it’ll be first thing on the agenda. Trust me,” Em agreed.
Also, maybe not the first thing…but it was something she’d thought about lately. Now that she’d gotten settled.
Barbie spread out the paper. Ah. The mock-ups of logos Emmaline had e-mailed over earlier in the day. “Since he’s not here, yet, and you’re not on Nocturnal Cupid so we can’t pick you a new guy, we’ve got time to talk about this.” Barbie pointed to the center of the page.
There were five gorgeous, streamlined logos all in a column.
“But he’s coming any minute.” And Emmaline needed all those moments to convince herself not to run upstairs and hide under her bed so she could become one with the carpet, and stay home with Sketch.
If she was quick enough to get there before Ethan showed up, she’d have the entire night to herself—since Fiona and Annie were with her parents for the night at a sleepover with some of the cousins.
She and Ethan had, one more time, explained to the girls about the “date” and that it would be the end of the ruse. The girls shared a look that Em couldn’t quite decipher.
“Other than all those sketches of Ethan you’re hiding in the drawer beside your desk, he’s not here now, is he?” Barbie glanced around. “Nope.” She answered her own question. “So. Logo.” She pointed to the page holding five illustrated kitty cat infused logos.
Emmaline hadn’t drawn them by hand. She’d used a vector-based computer program, so they’d look more realistic than her…scribbles.
More realistic. More professional.Blah. Blah. Ugh.
They were precisely the thing National Insurance drilled into her head in the many, many—oh, so many—branding meetings.
“Right track or no?” Emmaline asked, glancing at the logos.
They were precisely in line with what was the rage these days for big corporations and other not-for-profits. Clean lines and only a hint of color. They’d look great against an ivory business card or embroidered on a sweatshirt.
Barbie extracted another paper from her other bra cup. This one was blank.
Emmaline said nothing because she had a hunch Barbie would fill in the details lickity split.
Barbie extracted a pen from straight in the middle of her cleavage. One of the fine tipped Sharpies.
“I want you to draw me a cat,” Barbie said this with a nod of sly acknowledgment that she knew Em would fight it. “With a pen.”
“You want me tohand drawyour logo?” Emmaline asked. Why did the thought of that make her heart speed up and her underarms sweat?
She held her elbows out a little just in case she really got to perspiring. That way, she wouldn’t totally wreck her dress and then have to go change into something else that might not match white strappy sandals.
“I know your talent.” Barbie handed over the marker pen. Emmaline took it, boob sweat notwithstanding.
“And I know that if you can make Ethan a cartoon, you can make a kitty a cartoon.” This she said with utmost assurance.
“Okay, so if I were to hand draw you a kitten, I’d probably actually do several in a row, connected by one long thread of a horizontal line that loops together.” Emmaline started at the feet, then moved her way up. The first cat was wandering to the left, the second sat regally, and the third was licking his little tootsies. He came out a little wonky, but Emmaline kinda dug him. She continued with a few hashes of shading.
The doorbell rang.
“Ethan’s here.” Emmaline stopped sketching, but before she could even look up Barbie was at the door opening it. “I’ll finish this late—”
