“The illustrations are fabulous.” Dr. Paul gave her a side hug. But her brain had gone fuzzy.
A good start…
They’re just scribbles.
They’re only nonsense.
They’re a part of me.
They’re incredible.
They matter.
They’re something special.
They’re a part of me.
“Sorry,” Ethan came beside her. “Had to have a chat with a bloke.” He held his hand out to Dr. Paul. “Ethan Greene, and you are?”
Em slid out of the conversation. Her body still present, but her mind taking a break. It didn’t matter, no one seemed to notice she’d checked out.
She glanced to her purse. Then to the champagne. She tossed it back in one gulp.
A good start…
“Chat soon, Em,” Dr. Paul said, pulling her from her thoughts and patting her on the arm.
“Yeah. Soon,” she replied.
“Can I get you another?” Ethan asked, holding another pre-wedding champagne flute to her.
Yes. But also, “Just this one. I’ve got to be able to stand later so we can dance.”
That got her a half smile and an eye smolder. “Yeah, ’course.”
She still took the offered flute, giving a little sip to the dry Brut she never really understood why anyone liked. Her preference in sparkling wine was a nice, sweet Prosecco. Something fizzy, but not harsh.
Ethan frowned, staring off in the distance.
“You okay?” Em asked, linking her arm with his.
He held the program for the ceremony in his other hand, tapping it against his thigh.
“Good. I’m good,” he said. He pursed his lips like he wanted to say more, opened his mouth, but seemed to stop himself and closed it.
“Ethan?” Emmaline whispered. “Why are we here?”
“President of Nosh is gonna be here,” he said. “I need to catch him. Make a pitch, you know?”
“Make a pitch? A pitch for what?”
“New show. They’re considering bringing back the meatsicle. It just needs to be signed off by the higher-ups.”
Em’s heart beat slower. Like it was conserving energy because it understood soon it would be broken. They hadn’t talked about his career or what role it played in their tentative bid at a future together.
If he was going to be famous again, that changed things. The little bit of hope he’d given in the car started to crumble.
“They’ll film at the Denver restaurant, so I won’t have to upend Annie,” he said, the excitement in his tone palpable. “It’s perfect. Just need that final okay.”
