“I’m not interested in going on a date, Mr. Blackwell, she shouldn’t have called you.” So much for tact.
“Well then, let’s not call it a date. How about we have a meeting of the minds over some delicious food?” He doesn’t sound the least bit phased by my rejection, just steamrolling forward.
“I’m sorry, but I have to finish some important work for my masters program. I couldn’t possibly find the time for a ‘meeting of the minds’.” I try not to choke on the pretentious sounding statement.
“What is your degree in?” He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.
“Business.”
“Business, hmmm, don’t they tell you that contacts and networking are an important part of the job? I’ll tell you what, I have a fundraiser that’s will be a real who’s who in the business world. You’d be missing the opportunity of a lifetime if you didn’t go.” I’m not sure if he’s talking about him or the contacts.
He’s zoned in on my weakness. Of course, I’m interested in making contacts. I’m eager to get my feet wet in a real career, but at what cost? What is he expecting out of this date? And why is he so insistent? I rub my forehead, trying to make a decision, the right decision.
“Ok,” I finally answer him.
“Wonderful! How does tomorrow evening work for you?”
Tomorrow! How am I supposed to get ready for a fancy charity event with no notice? “Yes, that will work,” I squeak, not sure how I’ll find anything to wear. “Where should I meet you?”
He chuckles dryly, “There won’t be any need to meet me. I’ll have my driver pick you up at say five o’clock?”
I hesitate again, do I really want him to have my address? In for a penny, in for a pound I guess. “Sure, do you want to write down my address?”
“No need.” I can hear the smile in his voice.“Brianna already gave it to me.”
Of course she did.
Chapter 2: The Dress
“Why did I say yes? Why did you call him? What the hell am I gonna wear?”
“Take a breath. I’ve got plenty of cute clothes, what we really need to work on is this hair,” Brianna soothes me while pawing at my frizzy, black puffball of hair.
“Can you make mine look like yours?” I know that I’m asking for a lot, but her hair is so stunning.
“Are you kidding me? Do you know how much I set aside for a Keratin treatment every month? There’s no way. Besides, Mr. Hottie-McMoney didn’t ask you out because of your hair… obviously.” She plucks up a strand like it’s a dirty gym sock. “Nah, just need a good straightener and a ton of conditioning. First, let’s pick out something to wear.”
Her wardrobe is less than ten steps from the front door of her tiny bachelorette pad. I didn’t even know they made apartments this small, but then again, Brianna has the whole place to herself. I would gladly sacrifice my bedroom to the New York rent-gods in exchange for some privacy. Not that Brianna spent much time alone in her place.
She flings opens the door, and the brilliant shine of her skintight clothes blinds me. I start shaking my head in protest. “Oh relax will ya? I know you can’t handle any of my sexy dresses. You gotta own it if you wear something like this.” She pulls a scandalously short, siren red dress with triangle cut-outs surrounding the breasts. “I got something more your style back here.” She starts rummaging through her overstuffed closet.
How does she know where anything is in that thing? She heaves the crazy amount of clothes sideways, grunting like a meathead at the gym, straining to reach the back. I watch her pat her hand around in behind the sequined tank tops and jeans encrusted with fake jewels blindly searching for her mystery dress.
“I know it’s here… just a little… AHA! Gotcha!”
She slips an elegant, black chiffon cocktail dress with a hint of silver pinstripes through the crushing wall of clothes and dangles it in front of my face with a triumphant smile. I smooth the dress down in front of me holding it against me like a paper doll. I can see that it will come to just above my knee. The beautiful, heart-shaped bodice plunges lower that I’d like, but the ribbon-belted waist makes it look classy and feminine.
“I’ve never seen you dress like this, it looks expensive. Where did you get it?” I trace my finger over the delicate dress, longing to see what it looks like on.
“I didn’t buy it. It’s a bridesmaid dress to the fanciest wedding I ever went to. It’s not like I can dance at the club in it, but I couldn’t chuck it. I’m glad I didn’t, cause it’s perfect for tonight.”