Snark's 57 sauce finishes the buffet

"Should I seat the Prescotts with Scott and Tracey, or with Jim and what's her name? What do you think, Jack?"


"Well, Harry Baldrich had Scott work on that incorporation deal when you were out of town last month--should I put Scott and Tracey with the Baldriches instead?"

"Forget it, Emma."

"Jack, having the new partners and important clients together for dinner is your brainchild, remember? If you want to have the dinner again this year, and you expect me to plan it, the least you can do is help figure out the seating arrangements."

"It's not working."

"What's not working? Your attempts to get some of your clients to work with the new partners, or the seating arrangements?"

"Would you forget the goddamned place cards for a minute?" Jack slammed his hand down on the kitchen countertop and whirled around to face Emma for the first time since the conversation started. "There's someone else."

"Someone else has made partner, or someone else should be invited to the dinner?" She almost said, "But that would make thirteen at dinner, and that would be unlucky." She almost said it, but then she looked at her husband's face, really looked at it, and the words died on her lips. "We're not talking about the dinner party anymore, are we?"

no, we're not in Kansas anymore Dorothy. There's nothing overtly wrong here, but this is old hat, tired stuff. You're going to have to show me something pretty enticing in the next three pages to keep my interest. I still think Jennifer Weiner's opening for Good In Bed takes the cake for this kind of scene.

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