Page 8 of Party Favors

It was Colette, Adrian’s girlfriend.

“Hello, Colette,” I said.

She smiled at me, her mouth full of perfect, gleaming white teeth. “Everly! You look gorgeous! How are you?”

It would be so much easier to dislike her if she weren’t such a fantastically sweet person. I couldn’t help but like her, though. She was also gorgeous—her blonde hair wasn’t mostly brown and was probably her actual hair color. She had dark green eyes and looked like a little girl had wished for her Barbie to come to life. Colette was so tiny that she made me feel overly aware of my height and general awkwardness. She seemed to glide more than walk.

Today she had her little fluffy white dog, Bijoux, in her designer handbag. I had so many questions about purse dogs. How often did they relieve themselves and ruin the bags? Was that why purse-dog women had so many different handbags? Did the dogs get bored? Were they happy with the arrangement, or did they just put up with it to get treats later?

The thing I wondered most, though, was why I wasn’t allowed to pet Bijoux. Adrian had mentioned something about an anxiety disorder once, but I loved animals and it was a struggle every time to not pet Bijoux.

Plus, every time I saw Bijoux, it made me miss my dog back home, Princess. Even though she was ten years old, she still had the energy and mischievousness of a new puppy.

And as much as I missed my mom and my grandma, it might have been a tiny bit harder for me to leave Princess behind.

Then I remembered that Colette had asked me a question. “I’m good! How was Paris?”

She split her time between New York and Paris, where she’d grown up. “Paris is Paris, wonderful as always. You should come and visit! You could stay with me.”

Yes, that was absolutely the first thing I would do when I saved up enough money to travel. Fly to Paris to stay with my boss’s girlfriend, who had no idea that I’d been harboring a secret crush on her boyfriend for years.

Because that wouldn’t be at all awkward.

“It’s on my list,” I told her. I’d much rather take a trip to Monterra, but there was no way I’d be able to afford that anytime soon, either.

“Thank you for the flowers,” she said to me with a twinkle in her eye.

“Hey, I sent you those flowers!” Adrian protested.

She glided over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing him on the cheek. “I know you paid for it, but I also know that Everly picked them out and made all the arrangements.”

She was better at standing up for me than I was for myself. Maybe I could learn something from her.

Adrian turned to capture her lips in a kiss, and I felt extremely awkward. I snuck out, closing his door behind me. I went to HR and found Vella had finished up her paperwork. To the manager’s great relief, I offered to train Vella and show her how the phones worked at reception.

“I know how phones work,” she said dryly as we went down the hallway.

“Yes, it’s not really a difficult skill to master,” I responded.

She tugged on my arm and pulled me to a stop. “Are you okay? Your eyes are a bit glassy and frenzied-looking. Like that time when you didn’t sleep for two days straight because you had too much to do and I found you eating honey by the spoonful.”

I didn’t even remember that happening. While Vella might have been a lot of things, she did not lie, so I believed that I had weirdly eaten honey because I hadn’t had enough sleep. Weirdly enough, I didn’t even like honey.

We arrived at her desk and she took a seat, adjusting the chair to the right height.

“How about I take you out to lunch to celebrate your first day and I’ll tell you all about what’s going on with me and why I look like I just ate spoonfuls of honey?” I offered.

“Okay.” She drew theAsound out, like she was annoyed I wasn’t telling her immediately and intended to pull every detail out of me later. It always amazed me how much she could convey with a single syllable.

“Hang on,” I said, and sent a quick text to Adrian reminding him of his meeting.

“Who are you texting?” she demanded as I put my phone down. When I didn’t answer, she easily guessed. “Adrian? About that meeting? You know, he is a big boy and he can remember his own meetings. He can even set his own alarms on his phone. You shouldn’t have to text him like he’s an infant.”

“Who texts an infant?” I asked.

She just sighed loudly and waved her hand at me, like she was dismissing the entire situation. “Never mind. Show me how this phone thing works. I’m assuming it rings and then I pick it up and put it to my ear and speak.”

It was a good thing she didn’t have an immediate supervisor, or else her grade A sarcasm would probably ensure that her first day was also her last.

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