Okay, I need to get out of here, or Dorsey is going to get all my cookies tonight. The part of her—with the tiniest sliver of self-respect—scrambled for safer conversation.

“Who would you most like to invite to dinner, living or dead?” Liza asked.

Dorsey tilted his head down in surprise. “You downloaded the app?”

“Just answer the question.” Liza rolled her eyes. She’d downloaded the app ages ago.

Dorsey looked thoughtful. “I think I would invite my biological father.”

Her eyebrows rose. “From what you told me, he probably wasn’t a good dude.”

“I know. He was probably a rich, abusive asshole who thought he could take advantage of a poor foreigner in his home.” The pads of his fingers traced up and down the small of her back. She let go a soft breath. Degree by fractional degree, Liza was unspooling.

“So, what would you even do at dinner?” Liza asked.

“I would be a rich, abusive asshole.”

Liza thought she should close this line of questioning, but he asked her—

“And you?”

“Uh, honestly?” Liza asked.

His gaze was dark and intentional on her. There was no bottom to those smoldering eyes. “Always.”

Liza felt for the first time how far out of her depth she’d waded once again. Every turn in the road led to Dorsey. “I would invite Patricia Fitzgerald,” she said.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Why my mom?”

“She was just this middle-class lady from the Rust Belt, and she built an entire ecosystem of goodness all over the world. WCO’s work is unimpeachable, and she did it all by making rich people pay for it. I did a paper on her for my international studies thesis.”

“Um, that’s . . .” He trailed off and squinted like he was trying to make something out. “I think that may be the mayor that LeDeya just asked to hold her shoes?” Dorsey stopped swaying.

Liza turned to see her sister with her sky-high heels off, twerking and popping her booty up and down.

“How do you twerk to Teddy Pendergrass?” Liza wondered aloud. “Lord, all she needs is a pole.” This was the Bennetts’ worst showing. Dorsey took a step back from her, and Liza’s body chilled. Had they been dancing that close?

“Where are David’s parents?” Liza asked, putting her hands to her sides.

“They sent their apologies,” Dorsey said. Liza sighed in relief. “And I think your mom has had enough champagne.” Dorsey’s arms loosened around her, and Liza sensed the chill creeping into his demeanor. Mr. Freeze was back. Liza turned just in time to hear Bev laugh loudly, sloshing her drink all over her wrist.

“And she better poke a hole in that condom if she knows what’s up!” She laughed while onlookers exchanged pained looks.