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fierce women. Not gonna lie. It was mildly emasculating. I was also greatly missing the soft skin of Emma’s palm clasped in mine. I imagined that was how amputees felt. She was my ghost limb.

Stella did her best to skirt around the question. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy, poppet.” She waved several yellow sticky notes in the air between her and Emma. “Care to elaborate?”

Emma shifted on her heels, which I noted were flashier than usual. Come to think of it, there was nothing casual about her choice of clothing. She always looked beautiful, but she seemed to take extra care this morning. I wondered if it had anything to do with Jennifer Fairfax. Or me.

“You’ll soon find out,” teased Emma, wagging her brows.

“I wash my hands of this,” I said. “Mrs Woods, would you mind accompanying me to gather my things?”

She looked between me, Stella, Emma, and then back to me again. Clearly, she wanted to stay and hear the gossip.

“Welp. I have work to do,” said Stella, waving her arms about. “You lot. On your bikes. Go on.”

“Even me?” Emma asked with a pout.

“You stay.”

Stella pulled Emma further into the room, winking at me as she shut the door. I shrugged and offered Mrs Woods my arm, and we walked in silence to the rehearsal space. At length, she said, “I’m worried about Emma. Is that Harriet girl a good influence?”

I laughed. “I think you should be more concerned about Emma’s influence over Harriet. But to ease your thoughts… Emma will be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

She patted her hand on my forearm. “Thank you, Jaxson dear. Remember our little arrangement.”

“I haven’t forgotten, Mrs Woods.”

“Good. Are you coming to dinner?”

“As long as you make your famous flax seed tofu.”

12

Road Trip

Emma

Harriet missed all the excitement due to a silly sniffle. She had a tiny cold and was perfectly fine to come to rehearsal, but when Mum overheard my phone conversation with her, she forbade me to leave the house until I convinced Harriet to stay home. Then Mum came along with me to make sure I wasn’t exposed to anyone else’s germs. After all, it was flu season and apparently, I was a child. No doubt Mum and Stella were conspiring what to do with the likes of me when I barged in with Jax. I smiled at the thought. Jax… not the conspiring.

Harriet promised she’d be all better by the weekend, so she could attend Annie’s wedding. That was a relief, because I had grand plans. Weddings are so romantic. What better way to spark the flame between Harriet and Elton that had been building these last couple of weeks? I had a foolproof plan. Harriet needed a ride to San Diego (because hello, clunker car) and Elton had an extra seat. It was almost too easy. One could almost say it was fate—if ‘Fate’ was a movie star and had impeccable taste in shoes.

Jax cancelled Friday’s rehearsal so all those going to San Diego early could avoid rush-hour traffic down the I-5. I wouldn’t have minded hours of gridlock if it meant we could finish the waltz choreography. One of the most romantic scenes in the movie was the waltz between George, Jaxson’s character, and Penelope—his love interest. It was a flashback in the film and was meant to be a grand, sweeping scene with beautiful gowns, couples dancing all around us, and a show-stopping kiss. If Jaxson’s vision came to fruition, it would go down in cinema history as one of the most epic screen kisses to date. Years from now, it would grace top-ten charts on every entertainment vlog. Professors would talk about it in film schools and criticize every other screen kiss against it. Actors would study it frame by frame to learn proper technique, and graduate students would write their thesis on the expert execution of lip placement, camera angle, and head tilt. Also—if I were being honest—I just wanted an excuse to kiss Jaxson and not feel weird about it. But it would have to wait until Monday; the party van was on its way to pick me up. I contented myself with the consolation I had a wedding to look forward to. Maybe Jax would save a dance for me. Although I had a feeling Achy Breaky Heart was more likely to make the playlist than a waltz.

I was packed and ready to go—complete with the energy supplement Mum personally placed in my bag—waiting for my ride. My mobile phone pinged so I checked to see if it was Annie texting me that the van had arrived. But the notification was from Harriet instead.

Harriet: 102 temp. *sick emoji* Tell Annie I’m sorry.

I didn’t bother texting back, opting to ring her instead. She answered right away, skipping the hello.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, Harriet. Don’t be sorry. You have a fever?”

Of course, she had a fever. That’s what 102 temperature meant. But what does one say other than get well soon? Mum would prescribe wheatgrass and ginger shots.

“Yes. It’s the flu, I’m afraid. I just wanted you to know I wouldn’t make it to the wedding after all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”

Again, me not knowing what to say. What could I possibly do for her? She just needed rest.

“No. Thank you, though. You’re so nice to me.”

Really, I wasn’t. At least I figured I could be nicer… like Jax. One time I was sick, and Jaxson made me tea, sitting up all night with me so I wouldn’t be alone. I was certainly not that level of nice in this situation.

Instead, I said, “I’m going to be very sad at the wedding thinking about you in bed feeling miserable while I dance the Macarena.”

“I’ll be better by Monday. I promise.”

Her nose sounded so stuffy.

“And Elton. He’ll be so bummed. Did you call to tell him you can’t carpool with him?”

“No. I was too shy to ask in the first place.”

“Okay. That’s okay.” It wasn’t okay

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