The day after the party, I tried to pretend everything was normal.
Olive, Judy and I decided to grab iced coffee before our shift, and they were already in full gossip mode the minute I sat down.
Judy sipped her drink, clasping her hands like she was about to deliver an important news.
“So,” she began dramatically, “are we going to talk about how your eyes were following Enzo yesterday? Or should we pretend we didn’t all see it?”
I blinked. “My what was doing what?”
Olive almost choked on her drink laughing.
“Oh, please. You looked at him like you suddenly just realized how attractive he is.”
“I wasn’t looking at him,” I said, straight faced. “At all.”
Judy gave me a slow, knowing nod, the kind that meant she didn’t believe a word I said.
“Sweetheart,” she said, “you looked like y
