“Tooodddddd!” I whined through a barely-open mouth.
“For me, not you! Rick’s taking me to a fancy art show downtown this weekend. It’s supposed to be romantic. I want to get some new clothes to surprise him.”
“Okay. I won’t complain, then.” He used a brush to blend creamy foundation into my skin.
My mind strayed to my lawsuit as he blended. “Damn. I’ll have to wear this mess every day if I head the company, won’t I? It’s the professional thing to do.”
“I’m afraid so, dear.”
“You’ll have to teach me how to come up with a quick beauty routine. I’m not going full blown like this every single day.” I didn’t mind being professional and put together, but I was far too lazy to primp for hours a day.
“With your skin, you can get away withmuchless. It’s like you don’t even own pores.” I furrowed my brow at the jealousy on his face.
“Okay. I can deal with that. And the hair?”
“Most days you can run some product through it, throw your head upside down, and blow dry.” He fluffed my hair out
“Okay. I guess I’ll do that. If it helps me with this company to have a more professional appearance, then I will, even though its complete bull I’m not being judged solely on my brain and work ethic.” Women should be able to go to work without makeup and elaborate hairdos, like men did.
“Just wait. Fashion can be fun, you’ll see.” His voice raised in pitch with his excitement. He’d been trying to get me to act like a girl since my mom died.
He finished, and the final product looked like I didn’t spend an hour getting ready but just rolled out of bed. My face was natural, but brighter and prettier. I hated how much I liked it.
“Ack. Let me throw some clothes on, and we can go.” Todd let out a sharp laugh.
“Throw on some clothes? HA! Whatever. Go sit. I’ll bring your clothes to you.” I sat. A few minutes later, he exited the closet holding a pair of skinny jeans I’d never even tried on, and a red one shoulder draped shirt.
“You’ve got to give mesomethingthat’s the normal me, or they’re going to know I’m trying too hard.” I didn’t want him to completely change me for one meeting.
“It never hurts to dress our best. And okay. I’ll let you wear a looser cut of jeans.”
“The straight leg, Todd. I mean it.” He’d push me to wear whathewanted me to if I let him.
“Only if it’s a new pair. You’ve worn the same three pair for ages.” He crossed his arms and settled in to out-stubborn me.
My freshly plucked brow furrowed. “Agreed.”
An hour and a half after Todd tickled me awake, I left in wedge heels that had never been on my feet, jeans and a shirt that had never been on my body, makeup that had never seen the light of day, and hair that had never bounced more happily. I hated to admit, but it was nice to know I looked my best, even if I hated the principle behind it.
We took Todd’s little red sports car the five blocks to the high rise housing Beaumont, Morales, and Lawson. The underground parking garage led up into an atrium filled with plush couches and green plants. Todd noticed a gold plated tenant list and guided me over. The law firm was on the fourteenth floor.
My stomach clenched as we entered the crowded elevator. I grabbed Todd’s hand, irritated at myself. Those three men were already under my skin. He gave me a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t be nervous. I’ve got you,” he whispered.
I took a deep breath. In through my nose and out through my mouth.Chill. They’re your friends.Nothing more and nothing less… Maybe something more. I needed to stop being nervous about the guys and focus on the severity of my errand to their office. It was time to win my case.
Todd stopped me outside the firm. He pulled a tube of clear gloss out of his pocket and dabbed a little on my lips. “You ready?”
“They’re just lawyers.” I rolled my eyes in mock irritation. “Let’s get this over with. I’ll meet the new people, write them a check, sign on the dotted line, and go.”
Todd nodded the affirmative and opened the door. I swept into the room with my head held high. A platinum blond receptionist sat at an expensive oak desk. “Good morning!” she said, voice chirpy.
“Good morning,” I replied formally. “I have an eight o’clock appointment with Arch.”
“One moment, please.” Blondie picked up her phone. “Mr. Beaumont, there’s a woman here to see you. No sir, one moment.” She turned her gaze to me. “Your name?”
“Ms. Asche.”
Blondie relayed the information then turned to us. “Please, follow me.” She led us through a small labyrinth of cubicles until we entered a quiet inner office. Another receptionist sat at a grandiose desk.
