Page 45 of Vera Wong's Guide to Snooping (on a Dead Man)

“Whatever. I can sense the judgment oozing out of you.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

“Only of judginess.”

“Not a word from me.”

“Oof, more judgment.”

She laughs again and marvels at how easy it is to be with Oliver. Moments like these, Millie lets herself forget who she is and what she’s done. She allows herself to leave Father and Mother behind and pretend she’s just a normal person, a carefree young woman spending time with a cute guy she met who seems nice. Wholesome, the picture of the American Dream. Oh, Millie knows the American Dream is usually one filled with great wealth and power, but hers was never that. Her dream had always included a simple stroll down a pretty street much like this one with a guy who laughs at her jokes, and a golden retriever walking alongside them.

Then the truth catches up with her, and Millie feels almost winded at the reminder of it. She’s the opposite of wholesome. Thomas is proof of that. And she doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing here with Oliver, especially given his ties to Vera. Millie has the sense to know that Vera is not someone you want to be messing with. Vera is not someone whose friends and family you want to be messing with, so what is Millie doing right now?

“You okay? You got real quiet all of a sudden,” Oliver says.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says quickly, trying to shake off the darkness. She deserves a slice of happiness, just for a while. For now, she can pretend everything is fine and they’re a normal couple and she’s not about to do what she always does. She looks up at Oliver and smiles, and she wonders if he can sense the sadness behind the smile. “Wanna get a boba?”

•••

It’s so easy, spending time with Oliver. Except he hasn’t tried to hold her hand or anything, even after two dates. A week later, Millie is in her room, staring up at the ceiling, wondering whatshe’s doing wrong with him. That first date of theirs, they’d ended up spending half the day together, laughing and chatting about nothing in particular, and then he’d given her a quick hug before she got on the bus to go back. Three days after that, they’d gone to Fisherman’s Wharf and shared a lobster bisque in a bread bowl before walking aimlessly around the wharf and playing overpriced carnival games. They’d laughed so much that Millie noticed her cheeks hurting later that night. They were really good dates. A+, no notes. She can sense that he likes her. He can hardly keep his eyes off her. So why hasn’t Oliver made a move on her?

She takes out her phone and considers sending him a text. But maybe that would seem desperate?Girls should never make the first move!Mother’s voice booms in her head. Mother knows everything there is to know about dating. Millie opens up the text thread she has with Oliver and scrolls through their messages. Over text, Oliver is himself. Open, friendly, but showing very few signals of romantic interest.

“Ugh,” Millie groans. She isn’t used to being the one who’s more into the other person. What a mindfuck it is, being in this position. It’s even got her questioning her straight brows, for goodness’ sake. She lets her arms flop back down onto the bed, but just as she does so, her phone buzzes with a text. She whips her arms back up like a striking snake.

It’s a text from Vera. Millie swallows her disappointment, a split second before she perks up because, hey, it’s a text from Vera! Maybe there’s something about Thomas?

Millie, you come to my place now. Wear something nice. Or not, is okay. Aimes willbring something nice for you. Okay, see you. Kind regards, Auntie Vera.

Millie frowns. Wear something nice? She taps out a reply.You mean something nice for dinner with everyone?

Then she waits with bated breath for Vera’s reply. When it finally comes, it offers no clarity.Something nice that you young people wear. Kind regards, Auntie Vera.

Great. Very helpful. Thank you, Vera. Millie sighs, getting up from the bed and walking over to her wardrobe. Despite her drab living conditions, Millie has a surprisingly good choice of outfits to choose from, thanks to Mother. Mother is always giving her new clothes, and Millie likes to think that it’s one of the ways that Mother shows Millie she cares. It’s the kind of thing loving mothers do, right? Millie sifts through the selection, muttering to herself. What to wear? She reminds herself that she can’t look too nice walking out of here, because it might pique Mother’s and Father’s attention, and what would she say if they were to ask who she’s seeing? Maybe she can tell them she’s on her way to see Oliver? But then what happens when that fizzles out to nothing? They’d be so disappointed, and Millie hates disappointing them.

In the end, she chooses a pair of figure-hugging black pants and a lavender-colored top. She definitely looks nice enough for a date. She puts on the usual light makeup and slips out of her room as quietly as a cat. For once, her luck holds. She doesn’t see Father or Mother around, though that doesn’t really mean anything. They’re probably watching her through one of the many security cameras strewn about the place. They’re very protective parents. She scurries out of the building, jumping at the slightest noise, and doesn’t stop until she gets to the bus stop.

While waiting for the bus, Millie checks her phone, and dread bubbles up at the sight of a text from Mother.

Where are you going?

I have a date.

We need to talk about this guy when you come home.

Millie nods to no one in particular and stuffs the phone back in her purse. She licks her dry lips. She can’t keep lying to them about having dates, especially when the ones she’s had with Oliver are going nowhere. What if they find out about Vera and how Millie got involved with her in the first place? Millie takes out her phone once more and opens up a matchmaking app. Unlike Tinder, it’s an app geared toward people who are looking for serious relationships and not one-night stands. Millie swipes right without really looking at the profiles. By the time the bus arrives, she’s swiped right on eight profiles and gotten two matches. She spends the bus ride to Vera’s messaging back and forth with the matches. She feels so tired. By now, they all sound the same to her.Hey, how are you, how’s it going, what do you do for a living, for fun, where do you live, etcetera?She answers by rote. Mother’s voice tromps through her mind:young and vulnerable.She should turn that into a show tune or something; she certainly says the phrase enough.

She’s in a foul mood when she alights in Chinatown. She trudges down the block, her steps heavy, and takes a deep breath before entering Vera Wang’s World-Famous Teahouse.

The bell tinkles, and Vera calls out from behind the counter. “Ah, Millie, there you are! Just in time for tea. I make with jujubes and goji berries and white fungus, they are very refreshing and will give you energy.”

“Hi, Ver—Auntie Vera,” Millie says. She inhales the fragrance in the tea shop, her tense muscles unknotting slightly. There’s just something about this place that takes Millie’s guard down, for better or worse. She spots Aimes sitting at one of the tables and tenses back up. “Hi,” she says.

Aimes lifts her chin at Millie. “How’s it going? You look nice.”

“Thanks, so do you.” That’s an understatement. Aimes looks gorgeous. More so than before, actually. She looks like the kind of girls Millie looks at on Instagram, the ones with thick, beautifully separated lashes, poreless skin, and full pouty lips. The ones with entire wardrobes that cost more than a luxury car. The ones whose lives look way too good to be true.

Aimes seems to notice Millie staring and says, sheepishly, “The clothes are secondhand. There’s this really amazing vintage shop in Little Italy I can take you to one day. I’m pretty sure the stuff there are mostly knockoffs, but you really can’t tell. Come here, I’ll do your makeup.”

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