Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)

Chapterish 39

...

7:13 PM

Boho sundress. Braided sandals. Wanded curls. Check, check, and check.

Excitement, but make it dreadful. Check.

Ten minutes later, I am officially on my way down the block. Josh beat me there, to help with last minute set-up. And to pick up the hors d'oeuvres. I ignore my phone buzzing in my bag. I will not look. It won't be him anyway.

And that's okay.

In lieu of a ritzy birthday bash for my big 3-0, Josh has carefully curated the perfect (not 100 people) guest list, (Emmy chic) vibe, and (last minute) locale for my mini party. Though, I wouldn't have said no to just a romantic weekend getaway at the Harding's lake house...

Still, as I walk into OG Go Zen's studio, I am beyond impressed. Zoë completely transformed the space with twinkle lights and vines hanging from the rafters, blown-up life-size pics of me taped around the room, and a whole cocktail bar against the wall. It almost looks like a rented party space.

Killer Flirty & Thriving playlist included.

The nearest group of partygoers parts and I see Zoë refilling the ice bucket on the makeshift bar, her braids piled high on top of her head.

"Ah! The woman of the night!" Zoë squeals as she walks over to greet me at the door, her arms full of plastic cups. "Hi bebe!"

"Hey Zoë. Oh my God, how did you do this? It's so perfect," I tell her, hugging her as my eyes devour the rest of the venue.

"Yeah? You sure? Not too much? Or is it not enough? Josh said nothing crazy, but what's he know," Zoë says, still part-hugging me.

"Yes I am sure. It's abso perfect," I grin.

"You're such an old lady now. I don't know if you can pull off abso anymore," she teases.

"Um, 30 is the new 20, thanks," I remind her.

"This is true. This is true. But you don't look a day over 21!" She kisses my cheek.

Josh sneaks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, dribbling little bits of gin down my dress. "Welcome to your not a party party," he whispers into my ear.

"Hi Joshi." I kiss him.

"The man of the night, our financier, Mr. Josh Harding."

"Hey, Zoë. Financier, maybe, but you did all the work," Josh admits.

"And will take all the credit," she laughs. "Speaking of... the rest of these bar cups won't stack themselves!"

Zoë skips across the studio, slapping the cardboard booty on one of my cut-outs.

"So far so good?" Josh asks, dropping his head sideways on his shoulder and waiting for my review.

"So good." I shake my head. "I really love this. I really love that you skipped the clowns."

"Yes, there were some last minute change-ups," Josh laughs. "Would you believe me if I said I asked your parents to fly out?"

"I would," I nod, not bothering to look around. "I would not believe you if you said they were here."

"Ha!" Josh laughs into my neck. "Nope. Not here."

"More time with you," I say all lovey-dovey.

"Not only me, I'm afraid. You have about 50 people to entertain."

"I'm the entertainment?" I raise my eyebrows. "I didn't agree to that."

"Well, you at least have to say hi to everyone who's here to see you. Come on, let's make the rounds." Josh leads me by hand as we descend into the thick of the party.