Josh closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them all the seriousness is gone, and that spark of amusement is back. But this time, that amusement makes me feel sad.
“Don’t laugh,” I say.
He smiles and holds out his hands. “Maybe I’m laughing at myself.”
Oh.
“We’re you able to do your thing? In ‘The Production Room’？”
He gives me a superior, full-of-himself look. “Of course. Did you doubt Kral for even a second?”
I give a short laugh. “And I had eggs?”
He nods. “Six.”
I let out a long, relieved sigh. I reach over and take his hand, link my fingers through his.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with tears, and worry, and hope. “Thank you for being here. For being my friend.”
He doesn’t say anything, just nods, and stays still, his hand wrapped in mine.
20
It’s Thursday, and instead of meeting at Clive’s Comics, Brook called to tell me to meet the group at an address in Tribeca.
“Wear a dress, something hot. Not your usual ugly sweater sack thingy. Carly is hosting,” she said.
I frowned and looked down at the caterpillar green sweater I was wearing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I was asking about the ugly sweater comment but Brook said, “It means Carly’s hosting. At her place. It’ll be like an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous times ten thousand. Trust me. Wear a dress. Oh, and she said to bring a date.”
“What? Why?”
But then Brook was sniping at someone on the other end of the line about mandatory minimums and hard-ass judges and then she said, “I’m due in court. See you at seven.”
I was still at work when she called, so I sent Ian an email asking if he was up for going out tonight. Sorry, babe, he wrote back, I’m in Philly today.
How hadn’t I known that he was out of town?
“Did you know Ian was in Philly today?” I asked Lavinia.
She just gave me a flat look and said, “Do I look like a calendar?”
Back at my place, I’m in my bra and underwear rifling through a pile of clothes.
“Green sweater. Maroon sweater. Gray sweater.” I toss clothes from the floor onto my bed. “Sweater, cardigan, shawl, sweater.” Okay, maybe Brook has a point. When I get to the bottom of the pile I see a flash of bright orange.
“Pumpkin dress,” I say. I pick it up and hold it out in front of me. It’s still as tiny and orange as ever. But my mom did have it dry-cleaned so at least it isn’t dirty.
“Pumpkin dress or ‘ugly sweater sack thingy.’ Pumpkin dress or…” I sigh and pull the dress over my head. One of these days I’m going to get a slew of new dresses and they’ll be perfect for all the ritzy restaurants I go to with Ian and for all the nights I spend at Carly’s.
The door buzzer to my apartment goes off. I squeak and pull the dress down my thighs. I run to the door intercom and press the button.
“Yes?”
I don’t know who it could be. The only time my buzzer rings is when I’m expecting a delivery of mandarin chicken and fried rice or a few （okay, a dozen） cookies from the bakery down the block.
The intercom crackles.
“Gemma? It’s Josh.”
I hit the button. “It’s unlocked.”
I hear the door to the street bang shut and then Josh takes the steps two at a time. I pull open the door. He stops halfway down the hall when he sees me. My hair is a staticky mess, I’m barefoot, and the dress is doing that ride up the butt ride down the boobs thing.
A slow grin spreads over his face.
“Whatcha doing?” he asks.
I humph and yank at the skirt. Then I turn around and head back to search for a pair of heels. I call over my shoulder, “I’m going to a party for the rich and famous. What’re you doing?”
He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him. “I was at my dad’s. Your mom stopped by and asked me to bring you this lime Jell-O mold on my way through the city. She thought you looked stressed last time you were home.”
I turn back to him and finally notice that he’s holding a crystal bowl full of delicious looking cloudy lime Jell-O and suspended fruit bits. My mouth starts to water at the sight of it.
“You are the best thing that’s happened to me all day.”
Josh grins. “Why thank you.”
“I’m talking to the Jell-O.”
He laughs, “I know.” Then, “What rich and famous?”