“No, I mean we didn’t end up going. Montgomery had to cancel at the last minute. Something about dinner with a potentialinvestor. I just went ahead and booked the DJ on my own. And the caterers. And the bartenders. And the photo booths. Montgomery just gave me his credit card.”
“Don’t take it personally. He’s very busy. We’re lucky he even has time for this.” Then Margo sighed. “God, his parties are so epic. You’re going to have the best time.”
“Well then, you should come. It’s practically my party anyway,” Emma said as she turned back to the various clothing options she had pulled from her closet and laid out on her bed.
“Oh please. I’m pregnant and throwing up everything I eat. Let me live vicariously through you,” Margo lamented, watching Emma peruse hanger after hanger. “What about that Richard Quinn dress you have? The one with the feathers?”
“Feathers are definitely too much.”
Margo shrugged just as Emma’s phone chimed. She looked down at the screen to see a text from Lulu. It was midnight in Paris, apparently, and Lulu had sent a photo of her raising a glass of champagne in what looked like a club with Haydie and Raquel flanking her on either side. “Happy New Year!!!” was the caption.
“Who is that from? Montgomery?” Margo said, her expression hopeful.
Emma gave her sister a look. “No. Just Lulu and the girls. They’re all celebrating in Paris this year.”
“Sounds awful.”
She ignored her sister and texted Lulu back, promising to call next week even though she knew it would likely result in them playing phone tag for a month, and then began riffling through her clothes again.
“I love that you’re the hostess of this party with him,” Margo mused. “You’re like the perfect team!”
Emma ignored the stab of annoyance that had been present allweek as she planned this party entirely on her own. She picked up a hot-pink crepe one-piece. “What about a jumpsuit?”
“Well, it’s gorgeous,” Margo said, motioning at the screen as if her observation was obvious. “I’m not sure I can endorse a one-piece, though. Not as easy for him to bend you over a table for a quickie.”
Emma turned back to the mirror, her brow furrowing as she considered.
“Oh my God, Emma, I was kidding!” Margo exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Wait, have you slept with him?”
“No, I haven’t slept with him,” she said, as if she hadn’t been contemplating doing just that every day since their moment in the kitchen.
“Are you going to sleep with him?” Margo’s face was so close to the camera now that Emma could practically see her pores.
“I’m going to hang up,” she replied, moving to close the computer.
“I’m sorry! I’ll shut up.”
Emma withdrew her hand. “Thank you.”
“You like him though, right?”
She studied the bright pink fabric of the jumpsuit as if it would buy her time.
Montgomery Knox. Yes, he was a bit flaky. And he had taken his time coming to New York to meet her in the first place. But still, now that she had a person to fit with the name, a face and lips and hands… her heart tripped in her chest.
“Well?” Margo’s voice brought her attention back to the room.
“Montgomery is very nice and he’s very cute and we’ll see what happens,” Emma said, as if it was a mantra to herself as much as to her sister.
Margo squealed. “You’re totally going to sleep with him!”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Stop.”
“Name your first baby after me!”
“Goodbye,” Emma sang, already closing her laptop.
“Wait, what are you going to wea—” The audio went silent as the screen clicked shut.
