I don’t know what I’d do without my newsletter.

That’s how I feel most of the time, anyway. Today, I don’t know what to do at all.

Conservative? What the fuck?

The best I can hope for is some advice from my knowledgeable, wise, and well-sexed readers.

The cursor blinking on the blank email screen mocks me. This is like the worst writer’s block ever. I’m asking for something more than just inspiration.

It feels like I need a fucking miracle. Or at least a half-decent idea.

Shit, it’s getting late. I stop worrying and start typing. I start with what’s becoming my standard chatter about WineBar.

It seems like it’s all good news, or should be, and I try to keep a chipper, upbeat tone. But then I get to what I really need to know:

OK, so conservative dress.

Like, what does that even mean?

And what does it mean when it comes from WineBar?

I know I can rock this shit, but like, uhm, help. WTF am I supposed to do to make it hot? I mean, that kinda pulls out all the good choices and leaves me with what?

Tell me what u think, bc I have no fucking clue. If I ask WineBar, then he’ll be like “oh, you know.” How can he be sooper talkative one moment and then when I have a question he’s “Listen” and then gives me one fucking word or something?

LOL, so totally overthinking this. Need ur help, babes!!!

Just as I hit send, I hear my front door open, which is enough to make me leap out of my chair and nearly have a heart attack. It takes about half a second to realize that it’s only my best friend and fellow romance author extraordinaire, Lana.

There’s no reason I should be startled, but I still let out a little half scream before walking over to greet her.

“Jesus, Em. I’m supposed to be the tense one. What the fuck?”

Lana’s face is dead serious. She may be intense sometimes, but thanks to this barbecue and Kirk’s vague-as-fuck dress code request, I’m so far from chill that I think I might know what it’s like to be Lana now.

Maybe I can channel some of this nervous energy into figuring out a fucking outfit already. Since Lana’s here, I can recruit her to the cause as well.

“Come on, let’s go,” I demand, trying to be casual but already marching in the direction of my bedroom and my closet.

There has to be something perfect for today hiding there. I really hope Lana can help me figure out this whole conservative thing. This is one first impression I don’t want to mess up.

“Let’s go where?”

“To pick out something for this fucking barbecue already. You know—WineBar, parents, and all that shit.” I’m walking at a steady clip. I hear Lana following casually behind me.

“Okay, but Em…”

I get to my bedroom well before Lana, and by the time she strolls in, I already have a couple summery dresses laid out on the bed, and I’m busy looking through various tops.

“A dress would be easiest. Would it be better if I planned out an outfit?” I ask her.

I feel like I’m losing track of whatever ideas I may have had. I don’t want to put this all on Lana, but I need her relative clear-headedness right now.

“Emily?”

Oh, thank fuck. I’m starved for an outside opinion, and Lana’s ready to tell me something, at least.

“What is it, Lana? The flared floral dress? I was thinking that too. That’s pretty conservative, right?”

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

I give her a crazy look because that’s not the usual type of question Lana would ask.

“I’m very well rested. But let’s focus here. All I need is something conservative, but still slutty at the same time. Those are the only requirements.”

I’m focused on efficiently looking through dresses, hoping one will jump out as the perfect one.

“Um, Emily, I think you’ve stumbled on a fashion oxymoron. Conservative and slutty can’t exist in the same outfit.”

I’m still quickly rifling through dresses as I try to explain.

“Here’s the thing, Lana. I need to make a strong impression, but I can’t do that unless I look amazing. Conservative? What the fuck? That’s not inspiring to me. Would it be for anyone? No,” I answer before she can respond.

Because hello, who gets excited about conservative clothes? It’s sure as fuck not me.

And then there it is—my drop-waist green sundress. It’s the right weather for it, and the flowing design is sexy, but in a subtle way.

“Just a question, Em. Have you eaten recently? Like at all?”

I pull the sundress from the closet and hold it out for Lana to see.

“This is perfect, am I right? And I have those kitten heels in a matching color. Fuckably conservative.”

“Did you have breakfast?”

Lana doesn’t want to give her input for whatever reason. Well, so much for that. Thanks, bestie, looks like I’ll have to rely on my instincts about the sundress.

“Just an apple.”

“Oh. That’s not much of a breakfast, but better than nothing.”

“It was actually last night’s dessert.”

I lay the dress carefully on my bed as Lana looks on.

“Yeah, eating’s probably a good idea. Do you want to order something? Delivery? I could run out and pick something up for you.”

Now that the clothing dilemma is solved, my edgy energy slows down. I have just enough time to get ready.

“I still need to shower and make sure I look amazing. No time for anything else. Thanks, though, babe. You’re a doll.”

I give her a wink and rush to the bathroom. I do my best to relax while taking a warm shower, taking a few deep breaths.

This’ll be great, or at least fine. There’s no way a stupid barbecue can screw up what I have with Kirk.

This is all part of building a deeper relationship. I try to clear my mind. As I shave my legs, I think about nothing except the task at hand.

My quasi-meditation works until I’m staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, perfecting my makeup.

Why does Kirk seem so nervous about this?

That annoying thought rears its dumb head a couple times before I can shove it down for good.

When I finish getting ready, I head to the living room to find Lana again. She’s lounging and looking a bit bored on the couch. By now, I’m showered, shaved, dressed, and all-around perfectly prepared.

Conservative but slutty.

Lana looks up from her phone as I power walk past the couch.

“Leaving?”

“Yeah. You’ll be here when I get back, right, babe?”

Lana doesn’t bother answering since she can tell my mind is somewhere else.

“Don’t drink until you eat something!” Lana yells as I walk out the door.

I let the door shut behind me. Even though Lana’s words are loud enough to ricochet around the hallway, they don’t really register with me.

I’m too focused on how amazing WineBar will think I look and how easy it will be for him to push me in a corner and finger fuck me in this dress.

Yes…I’m totally ready for this.