Emma blushed. She had gotten the email earlier that week and had only told Nadine the good news. It wasn’t that she wastrying to keep it a secret, only that she was hoping to avoid the inevitable question of—
“Oh! That’s impressive! Did your dad pull a few strings?” Mr. Crawford asked playfully.
There it was. The familiar comment that turned her stomach.
“No, it was all me,” she replied, working to keep her tone light.
Mrs. Crawford nodded. “So when’s the interview?”
“Next month. Nadine is already helping me prep.”
“And what’s the backup plan?” Knightley asked as he took a sip of his water. He was staring at her over the rim of his glass with his familiar, bored stare. It was nothing he hadn’t said to her before, but it felt different this time. Or was it just in her mind?
“I have a letter of recommendation from the dean and have been researching possible interview questions for weeks,” she replied. “I’m going to get it.”
Knightley nodded once, and for a moment she felt like it was a victory. But then it was over. He turned to Mrs. Pawloski like Emma had merely told him the weather. Like she had been dismissed.
Davina caught the motion too and glanced back to Emma. Her expression was almost apologetic as she offered her a small smile. “Congratulations, Emma.”
Emma tried to smile back, but it faltered on her lips, so she let her eyes flit over the table, looking for something, anything, other than Knightley to focus on. That’s when she caught sight of Nadine again. She was talking to Mr. Crawford now, but her eyes kept darting to Knightley as well, to how he leaned into Davina, how he nodded at whatever she was whispering in his ear. And Emma saw the sadness in Nadine’s eyes, how hard she was trying to mask it with a smile.
The hum of conversation around Emma continued, dullernow. Her head felt like it was swimming, but she still reached for her glass and took another sip.
“So, what else do you have planned for your twenty-fourth birthday?” Montgomery murmured beside her, low enough so only she could hear.
“This is it,” she said with a flourish of her hand.
“What?” he replied with mock-indignation. A few heads turned in their direction. “That’s a crime, Emma. You deserve a full week of parties. Next year we’ll go to Ibiza. Have you been?”
Emma shook her head, her cheeks warming.
“Then I’ll take you. I can get us on the guest list at Freddie’s.”
“Oh, I love Freddie’s,” Davina mused from across the table.
Montgomery turned to her. “Well, well, Davina. You’ve been?”
She let out a breathy laugh, waving off the question even as she answered. “Years ago. One of my favorite DJs did a residency there, so it was a spur-of-the-moment trip.”
“Those are the best kind,” he replied, his mouth curling up in a lopsided grin. Then he turned back to Emma. “Well, that settles it. Birthdays in Ibiza from now on.”
Emma laughed. She knew she was never going to Ibiza with Montgomery. She doubted he was even serious. But at that moment, she was glad he was here distracting her with thoughts of beaches and clubs far away from this table. “It’s a deal.”
“I guess you’ll have to send me a postcard,” Knightley murmured from a few seats down.
The words didn’t seem to be directed at Emma in particular, but regardless, they still chilled the warmth in her chest. She reached for her champagne again and took another long sip before leaning into Montgomery.
“Well, this might not be Ibiza, but we have drinks and food. What else do you suggest?”
Montgomery hummed. “Maybe we should provide some entertainment? Have a dramatic lovers’ quarrel that they can all gossip about later?”
The corner of Emma’s mouth turned up. “Maybe you could tell me she didn’t mean anything to you. It was just a one-time thing. And then I could throw the rest of my drink in your face.”
He scoffed. “What a waste of perfectly good champagne. No, you should slap me and then stomp off to the bathroom. That way everyone can whisper about it until you come back.”
“Yes, heighten the anticipation.”
His smile broadened as he leaned closer to her. “Exactly.”
