Holy fuck. It's Ben.

Bennett suddenly can't recall the last time she used a pair of tweezers.

Or checked in with her ‘stylist’. 

Her stylist is actually just the little sister of her editor, who admittedly only knows her shit by keeping a steady bead on the pulse of Instagram trends, but still.

Emma would have reminded her about the tweezers.

It’s gone completely quiet in the room while Bennett and Ben stare at each other across the fancy appetizers.

Sam’s eyes ping pong back and forth, one eyebrow arched knowingly.

Ben speaks first.

“Hi.”

Everyone blinks some more.

Rob grins as guys are wont do in such situations.

Bennett regains her composure.

“Hi.”

A loud...

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