Emma wasn't looking, but she wasn't actively shielding against Jack either, so bits and pieces of his inner-monologue flitted past her like fragmented butterflies.

Oh hell, she'd been hitting on Jack while sitting next to one of his special friends. Tacky, Emma.

"I was going to see if I could convince Karla to part with one of her bottles - that girl has some wicked wine - but if the party is at the ice cream parlour, that wouldn't be appropriate," she laughed. "We got in enough trouble the last time we cracked one of those open. I think I recall something about trying to find people to teach us dirty songs."

"An escort, however, would be appreciated," Emma continued. "Since I'm not quite sure where the shop is."