“Happy Fasching!” Liza popped up like she was bursting out of a birthday cake. Is she happy to see me? Dorsey’s eyes zeroed in on her chest. Did she have her bra on? He vowed to check personally. Liza laughed out loud, probably because she knew the direction of his thoughts. Yes, she is happy to see me. That small realization made his throat feel thick and his face hot.

Dorsey cleared his throat, too afraid his voice would crack with emotion if he spoke. Liza was radiant. Bright teeth, reddish brown curls swept up in a high puff, and curly bangs across her forehead. She wore a dark military-cut jacket with a shirt on which, as hard as he tried, he could only make out the word “pussy” across her low belly.

That’s it. She was taunting him. He knew it.

“It’s German Lent! Can I interest you in some boiled potatoes?” Liza asked, the teasing still in her eyes. Dorsey turned to see Park beaming. So much for bad cop.

Colin stood up. “The best boiled potatoes you’ll ever have, I’m sure!”

“I think if you’ve tasted one boiled potato—” Park started.

Liza shook her head. “No, these will be the best boiled potatoes you’ve ever had.” Park laughed a funny little laugh, and Dorsey was suddenly struck with the fear that Joseph would see Liza’s magnetism and sparkle too. Why would he then want to be his wingman when he could have her himself? He was everything a woman like Liza would like.

No, I’m being paranoid.

Liza walked around the table, and when Dorsey saw those jeans, his eyes shot heavenward in a prayer for mercy.

Where would you even buy pants that snug? The children’s section? The jeans hugged her curved thighs and slender hips. A fine figure, his father would say, a fine-figured gal. Her ass is a damned masterpiece of biological engineering.

Dorsey greeted the senator with a tight nod, still not completely over the kick in the chest those jeans were. “I want to introduce Joseph Park, one of my closest friends.” He could see Colin scrolling on his phone.

“Celebrity chef, the king of Queens, Asian fusion guru, affordable-chic food magnate Joseph Park?” Colin asked.

Park pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Yep, all of that!” Everyone at the table laughed. Park made the rounds, shaking everyone’s hands and charming them effortlessly. Dorsey made an undignified sprint, just beating out Chicho for the seat next to Liza, while Park sat across from him. A woman came to pour the wine, and Liza and Dorsey reached for the same wineglass.

“Wineglasses go just above the knife, which will be on your right.” Dorsey managed a smile. I’m doing it. Relating without sounding like a robot.

“I really should brush up on my Emily Post,” Liza quipped. She looked slightly embarrassed.