Tuesday, October 2
"How do I look?" I ask as I walk out of the bathroom and into the living. I spin around a little to show Mikey the dress. It's red, short, and tight. I had to make sure it was tight enough. It sounds horrible, but I need my job.
"You look amazing. Now, put your shoes on and grab your jacket we're leaving," he says.
Once we get into my Kia, Mikey turns on the heat and pulls out onto the road.
"I'm nervous," I say. I rub my hands together trying to get some warmth. It's excruciatingly cold out today which is weird.
"Why?"
"Mr. Peters has never asked me to a dinner before." I bite my lip nervously as I think about how horrible it will be.
"Peters is a terrible boss. His "policies" suck, and he's a pervert."
What?
"Yeah. That makes me feel so much better."
"Sorry," he says with a laugh. I roll my eyes. "So, have you thought about moving in with me?"
"Mikey..."
"Dude, just move in," he snaps clearly annoyed. I know better than to argue with Mikey when he's annoyed. He may seem cuddly and cute at first, but he'll bite your finger off if he needs to.
"Alright," I sigh.
He sighs as well. "Thank you."
***
"Ms. Johns, Mikey, I'm glad you could make it," Mr. Peters mumbles taking in my very tight dress. I took off my coat before we entered the building just in case.
"We'd like to sit next to each other if that's okay," Mikey tells him standing in front of me to protect me.
I internally thank him for it. He looks back at me and smiles.
"What, are you two dating?" Mr. Peters questions suspiciously.
"What - God, no!"
Mr. Peters looks surprised at his tone. It surprised me too. His tone offends me. Why does he make it seem like being with me is so terrible?
"Okay, into the dining area, please."
The dinner goes well I guess. I didn't get to say anything or do anything, but that's okay. I didn't want any attention on me at all.
Mikey seemed to be enjoying himself as he laughed and joked around with the buyer. I tried to get into the conversation as well, but I was distracted by this uncomfortable feeling in my chest.
I was still thinking about what Mikey said. How he reacted to Mr. Peters accusations of us dating each other was weird.
Is it so bad to be with me? Am I ugly? Is it because I'm too short?
Once the dinner is over, we all shake hands. Mr. Peters seals the deal with the buyer, and finally, Mikey and I could leave.
We're in the car, and Mikey hums along to the radio playing. Usually, I would join in as well, and he seems to notice.
"Why aren't you singing along?"
"Hm? Oh, I'm just tired," I lie.
"Imogen," Mikey says.
"Yes?"
"I know you're lying," he states. I look down at my hands in my lap. "Jeez, what the hell did I do this time?"
"Nothing," I mumble. "It's nothing."
"I will pull over," he threatens, and I know he's serious. He's done it before, and so have I when he was upset about something.
