I stood frozen at the entrance to the living room, watching Emi hold up her expensive-looking pastry box.
What the hell was "Oppappi" supposed to mean?
"Oppappi?" I asked. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that one."
Emi's cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, her reddish-brown eyes darting away in embarrassment. "Oh! It's from this streamer! It stands for 'Ocean Pacific Peace!' It's just a silly thing I like to say."
"Ignore him, Emi," Natalia said, her smile warm and welcoming as she took the pastry box. She linked her arm with Emi's, guiding her inside. "He's an old man trapped in a teenager's body. Come on in. Is that from Étoile Céleste? You shouldn't have!"
"The patisserie across the street," Emi confirmed. "I know it's a bit much, but I wanted to bring something nice."
"It's perfect. These macarons are to die for," Natalia said. "Let me get some plates."
I watched them go, mentally adjusting my approach. Natalia was going to make this more complicated than necessary.
