But it’s the best show ever ??
We text for a few minutes before he reminds me again that I should be working and wishes me good luck tomorrow.
I set my phone aside, feeling somewhat mollified. After all, our friendship started when I was locked out of my room in only a towel. We’ve been in weirder situations than this and made it through.
After binging the rest of season one of The Good Place while finalizing my renderings for the designs for the presentation, I eat cheese and crackers in bed while I review my presentation. In the end, I fall asleep knowing that this time tomorrow, one way or another, this will all be over with and my life can return to normal.
chaptertwelve
I get up earlyFriday to ensure I’ll have plenty of time to recreate the look that we picked out for me to give my presentation in.
I pick out my favorite of the three outfits I came home with, a navy suit with a short skirt and a double-breasted blazer with a plunging neckline, which Felicia swears is appropriate to wear with only a bright green V-tank. The outfit shows off way more leg and cleavage than I’d normally be comfortable with, but the look is somehow both professional and sexy. Between it and my newly tousled blonde waves, I look like a badass.
I think I do a decent job on the hair and makeup. Reb sends me several encouraging texts and demands to see a selfie of the final product.
I snap a couple of shots when I’m dressed, and she declares my appearance “Tight.”
I’m still not sure any of this will actually work until I’m at work in the break room and I run into Tad, who is making his morning coffee at the espresso bar. He’s chatting with some guy from Account Services as he waits for the machine to do its thing. He glances in my direction, then does a noticeable double take.
At first, I nearly balk at his reaction. I’m still not comfortable “in character,” but it’s too late to back out now. With that thought propelling me forward, I weave through the tables toward my co-worker. Tad glances to either side—to make sure I really was waving at him—then straightens, puffing out his chest as he smiles at me.
That’s when it hits me. Tad didn’t even recognize me at first. I waved and crossed the room to talk to him, and I watched as he put the pieces together. Confusion, then surprise, then amazement all settling into the lines of his face, one by one. By the time I reached him, he was smiling at me like he’d never seen me before.
And I guess he hadn’t. Not like this, anyway.
I reach around him for a coffee mug. “Hi, Tad.”
“Hi ...”
His eyes go wide and then he squints at me, blinking rapidly. “Jesus, Meg. What’d you do to yourself?”
I shove my own mug under the espresso machine’s spout and push a few buttons. “A friend gave me a makeover. She thought it’d give me more confidence at the pitch today. Do y-you think it’ll help?” I ask playfully, but when I glance over at Tad, he’s still gaping at me. “Tad, close y-your mouth. It’s rude to stare.”
The machine sputters out the last of my foam, and I snag my mug, relieved to escape Tad’s scrutiny. Unfortunately, Tad follows me back to the trio of desks where we sit.
“Meg, I’m sorry. You just look really different.”
Trying to hide how flustered I feel, I sigh, as if exasperated by the delay.
“I hope you mean that in a good way?” I say it, but it comes out like a question.
But before I could second guess, he says, “You look stunning, Meg.”
“R-really?” I ask, and I realize I really care about his response.
He nods. “Sorry for my reaction. I just—I guess I wasn’t expecting a Christina Hendricks lookalike, but Jesus—if this doesn’t make the presentation go well,” he gestures to my outfit. “Nothing will.”
I feel myself blushing.
Great. Because it’s my outfit and not my ideas that are now the selling point.
This is not going as I’d hoped. Thea had sworn that this makeover would give me confidence. Instead, I feel like a freak.
And unprofessional at that. I’d said as much to her! But all my protestations had fallen on gleefully deaf ears.
“Honey,”she’d said.“With a body like this, you don’t need to look professional.”
And if the way Tad’s staring at me is any sign, Thea had been right.
