“So, tell me about yourself, Emerson. Where are you from?”
We’ve settled in for a mouthwateringly delicious lunch. The business talk must be over, because Kieran and Don called us over to join them. I’m trying not to drink too much champagne, but it’s the most delicious champagne I’ve ever had, and I’m feeling just a tad lightheaded.
“I’m from Oakland,” I tell Don smoothly, remembering my promise to myself not to lie about who I am. “That’s how I know Kieran originally.”
“Oakland,” Don repeats, raising his eyebrows. He glances at Kieran and quips, “Didn’t know they made ’em like that in Oakland.”
Kieran doesn’t laugh. Don immediately goes red.
“How did the work talk go?” I ask them, eager to change the subject before Kieran snaps at him. “Seemed to go pretty fast.”
“Always goes well
