“Oh.” Her mind went blank, and it took her a moment to recover. “Well, you should. I mean… Montgomery told me it’s an open invitation and…”
“Are you bringing someone?” Knightley asked.
“Well, I’m the hostess, so I guess… I’m going with the host.”
“I see,” he said, his expression darkening.
“And… you should… you know…” Knightley was watching her, his eyes narrowing as her tongue tripped over the words. “… absolutely bring a… someone…” Her stomach tightened and she couldn’t finish the sentence.
He stared at her a moment longer. “Great.”
Emma forced a smile onto her face. It felt ugly and wrong. “Great.”
Mr. Woodhouse beamed at them as he threw some mango into the blender. “Great!” Then he pressed the puree button and the kitchen was again filled with the deafening sound of ice and fruit being crushed into a million pieces.
CHAPTER 17
“What about sequins? Are sequins too much?” Emma held the skirt up to her hips, moving from side to side in front of her mirror so the silver beads caught the light.
“It’s New Year’s Eve. I don’t think anything’s too much,” Margo’s disembodied voice said from Emma’s laptop on her desk. She was on video chat, but when Emma looked over to gauge her reaction, she was staring at Margo’s empty sofa.
“You’re not even looking.”
Margo’s head popped back onto the screen, her hair disheveled and her eyes half open. “I’m right here.”
“Doing what?”
“Resting my eyes.”
Emma sighed. “Do you need to go take a nap?”
“I always need to go take a nap,” her sister mumbled, adjusting her computer so she could lay her head on a pillow and still see the screen. “But I can also help you pick out your outfit.”
“Then stop sleeping. I have to be over there soon.”
“Why isn’t Nadine helping you?”
“She’s at work, so I told her I’d meet her there. I needed to finish up my application for the Met internship today, anyway. Sort of my New Year’s resolution to start the year without it hanging over my head.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re jumping through all these hoops. Dad can just call somebody over there and get you the internship tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to get an internship. I want toearnan internship,” she said to her own reflection, and then frowned. Maybe sequins were too much.
“We’re talking about a phone call to get your foot in the door. You can take it from there.”
Emma closed her eyes and took a breath before turning back around to face the computer and change the subject. “So, what has Montgomery done to the Crawfords’ place?”
“Wait, you haven’t seen it?”
“Mar, I’ve barely seen him.”
Margo rolled her eyes as if Emma was exaggerating. She wasn’t. She hadn’t seen Montgomery since the kiss after Sunday dinner two weeks ago. There had been texts, of course. Ideas about caterers and entertainment, all of which Emma had ultimately booked on her own. She told herself it didn’t bother her, especially with those late-night messages from him about how he couldn’t wait to see her again. Still, tonight would be the first time they would actually be face-to-face since their encounter in the kitchen.
“What about your date to go meet the DJ?” Margo pressed.
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Not officially, but—”
