#tfrmeredith

“Look, you were supposed to have organic plums delivered today. I ordered them last week and you’re trying to tell me you have no record of it?” Isobel snatched the paperwork out of the man’s hand, her eyes scanning each page. “There. See? Cristina Elswood.” The name was comprised of her middle name and her mother’s maiden name; she couldn’t risk someone hearing her own name out here. “Organic plums. I ordered them, you should have them.”

Ignore the fact that the bottle had landed on Jenny first and he had to frantically spin it again, he got paired with the one person who didn’t want to brush shoulders with him. Okay, that wasn’t even close to true because, well, everyone here would be better off if he weren’t at their party. But he’d come to look after his sister. He’d come to laugh with Vanessa at the pretentiousness. And, well, the theme was half bad either. But above all, he had come for Serena van der Woodsen. Hell, he had even hopped into this juvenile game for the chance to have seven minutes alone with the angel *cringe* herself.