I watch Cammy pull out a sweater in a deep plum color. “It’s pretty. And cashmere,” adds Cammy with a small smile.
When she holds it up, I see the Parker and Associates logo embroidered on the upper left side. I peer around the room and watch others pull their sweaters from the gift bags. The guys’ sweaters are a crew neck style in grays, dark blues, and black. When I scan the women’s sweaters, they’re all V-necks in deep jewel tones.
I pull the handles open and peer into my bag. “No way,” I mutter. I start to shut the bag when Katya, Satan’s Spawn, speaks again. “Mr. Parker would like all of you to wear your sweaters tonight. We’ve got a photographer here to take candid shots during the party, but he also wants a group pic for the website. So, put them on.”
I open my bag again and peek inside. “What’s going on?” asks Cammy as she peeks over my shoulder. “What the fuck?”
I reach in and slowly pull out the bubble gum pink sweater in my bag. I set the gift bag on the desk behind me and hold up the sweater. “It’s a size small.”
“Small?”
“Yep. She got me a bubblegum pink sweater in size small.”
“But you’re…”
“An extra, extra-large. Yeah, I know.” And so does Katya.
“That fucking bitch,” grumbles Cammy. “I’d give you mine but…”
“Yours is a small too. Because youarea size small.”
“Maybe you can just ask Mr. Parker if you could go without.”
I take a deep breath. I look up to the front of the room to see Mr. Parker pulling on his deep green sweater. It’s the perfect color for him. It’ll match his eyes. “No. He wants us all in the sweaters so I’ll see if I can squeeze myself into this one.” God, this is so embarrassing. I look over and see Katya looking right at me. She’s smirking. She did this on purpose.
“She did that on purpose,” Cammy says nodding in Katya’s direction.
“Yep. She sure did.” I don’t know why but Katya hates me. I’ve done nothing to warrant those feelings. I work hard; I’m on time, mostly. I smile all day long, and I always have candy on my desk for everyone. It makes no sense. Turning to Cammy, I say, “Welp! Might as well get this over with.” I make my way toward the women’s restroom to face the music. I’m going to be the talk of the party. And not in a good way.
