Wasn't Anticipating His Presence.

Emma chose a few dresses from her closet. She checked which one to choose by looking in the mirror. It was Sunday morning, and Mrs. Queen would send a car to pick her up soon. She detested having to leave Zoe at home after the girl had been discharged the previous evening. Thanks to her argument with Phoebe, Emma couldn’t ask her friends for help. Speaking of Phoebe, where is she? Emma wondered.

Zoe pointed and said, "I like that pink one."

“You do?” Emma examined herself in the mirror to make sure. If she were to be frank, she doesn’t want to wear dresses that would be extra, but she has to. People would be present if Mrs. Queen had only invited her because she is the Queen's fashion company's favorite designer. She needs to sell herself. “No. I don’t think I like this one, Zoe.” She tossed the pink dress on the bed and reached for a cocktail dress with a more formal look that was only knee length. "This, I believe, is better."

“It is black.”

“I know. I love black.” Emma picked o