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“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he said. “And you’re hot.” I heard footsteps approaching us, and Chelsea’s face popped into the hallway.
“Hey,” she said cheerfully, holding the plate.
“Hi,” Finn said, taking a step back.
Chelsea looked at me, Finn, and then back at me. “Don’t stop whatever you’re doing on my account,” she said, and I glared at her.
“We were just talking about—”
“You weren’t talking about anything,” she said. “I think it was about to go down bow-chicka-wow-wow style.”
“Really, Chelsea?” I said, glaring at her.
“I think she’s funny,” Finn said, and I shook my head.
“Please do not encourage my sister.”
“I won’t,” he said. “So these are the deviled eggs?” He looked at the white plate in her hand. “Interesting.”
“Yeah. They are absolutely delicious,” she said. “Do you want to take them in or…”
“No, Chelsea. You’re going to take them in.”
“Do you need help with the other plates?” Finn asked.
“What other plates?” Chelsea blinked at him in confusion.
“With the rest of the eggs.”
“The rest of the eggs?” she said.
I swallowed hard. “We thought this would just be like a little amuse-bouche, like a teaser,” I said, staring at him. “Why, you think we should’ve made more?”
He looked at me, and then he looked at Chelsea. “There are twenty guests, and that looks like you cooked a dozen eggs and cut them in half. I would’ve assumed that there would’ve been at least two eggs per person, so forty eggs.”
“Oh,” I said, “I didn’t think people would be that hungry.”
“Yeah,” Chelsea said. “And I have a feeling once people start tasting these eggs, they’re not going to want to have seconds.” I glared at her, but she shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry, Harriet. Just so you know, Finn, Harriet’s number one skill is not with eggs. So maybe next time, don’t suggest she do any egg dishes.”
“I didn’t,” he said. “She was the one that came up with the deviled eggs.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, her face flushing pink. “Sorry, sis.” I said nothing.
We headed toward the ballroom, Chelsea, then Finn, then me. I almost didn’t want to enter. I was so embarrassed. I didn’t want to see anyone trying the eggs. I knew I should’ve tasted them myself to see if they would be okay, but frankly, they looked hideous, and I hadn’t wanted to try them.
“Attention, everyone,” Finn said as we entered the room. “Appetizers are here.” The crowd of people came toward Chelsea, all happy and eager. I heard several people mumbling about how hungry they were.
“I’m so excited to be eating food from a Michelin-star chef,” Dr. Port said, and I tried not to roll my eyes.
Chelsea stood in the center of the people and cleared her throat. “If everyone could just stand in single file, please. And when you come up, please only take one egg at a time because they’re just meant to be an amusement bouche and…” She looked at me, and I tried not to roll my eyes.
“Amuse-bouche,” I said loudly.
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what I said. An amusement bouche. Or is it bouquet?”
Dr. Port laughed. “Oh, funny. Finn, you didn’t tell me you were going to have comedians here tonight.”
“I didn’t know I was going to,” he said. Finn’s eyes were slightly narrowed as he looked over at me. “You’re not going to be giving my guests food poisoning, are you?”
