The Grean Household

3: The Dinner

"Darling, can you bring me my tie?" The man called out of the bathroom. He was staring at himself in the mirror, buttoning up his shirt. Examining his own features, the man could feel the confidence beginning to rise. Then, his wife walked into the bathroom. There was the heaviness of her makeup on her slender face, the texture grainy and obviously caked-on. 

"Here you are, hun."

The man took the tie, letting the fabric fall on his fingers. It was limp in his hand, his thumb running strips up and down the fabric. 

"Do you think I'll need it?" He asked, glancing over at his wife in her dress. It hugged close to her chest, rising her breasts up to an awkward high. She seemed unable to breathe, like she was wearing a corset too tight for her small body. Her eyes were slightly wide, head cocking to the side gently, hand on her slender hip. Her nails were painted, legs and arms shaved and smeared with lotion. His wife was smooth to the touch.

"You'll look great no matter what you wear." The response- albeit robot like and practiced- seemed to satisfy him. He gripped the strip of fabric in his hand and gently rubbed his fingertips over her skin. The makeup she was wearing made her look like a doll. She didn't move, she barely breathed. 

"You can breathe, Isabella." The sentence seemed to unlock the ability within her body. She didn't falter, she barely huffed. Isabella stood at attention as if she were a soldier in front of their drill sergeant. She was like an obedient doll that was able to guide him into the deepest chambers of his own pleasure.

 "Is the food ready, my love?" He asked. 

"Of course." Her tone dripped with honey, laced with the fear that sat in the darkest part of her mind. 

"Good," He said, glancing down at the watch on his wrist, watching that expensive ticking hand.

 "Our guests should be here soon."

---

The two rode in silence. Sarah was silently judging, head resting on her palm as her mother drove them to the address Mr. Grean gave her the day before. In her mind, Sarah could be doing a million other things. Activities that held significance to her rather than try to get a job at a company she was going to leave anyways.

That part made less sense to her. The reason why her mother would offer her availability now, when she was 4 months out from university, was beyond her. But the more she thought about it, more possibilities began to show themselves. She started to grow a terrifying fear that her mother would keep her home and force her to work with the company. If it came down to it, Sarah was prepared to fight for her spot at the university she got into.

As they continued to drive, Sarah watched the dirty houses slowly morph into the well put together yards with thriving flowers and lawn decorations that weren't rusted. Soon, the cars they were passing were nicer and newer, outing their own vehicle as they continued down the road.

Sarah was wearing a nice sundress, the color a vibrant match to her mood before she was dragged to the car. Earlier today, she had gotten a call from her mother whilst she was out with Kesha. She had completely forgotten about the dinner and was now being reminded by her mother, who harshly told her to return home. They were late. Astrid drove maniacally, lecturing her on how important this opportunity was for both of them. A position within this rich company could mean comfortable wealth for as long as they worked, up until they retired.

Sarah tapped her foot, staring out into the world as they drove through the neighborhood. Her dress was frilly at the bottom, accompanied by nice open-toed shoes. A small golden necklace rested on her collarbone, her blonde hair straightened and tucked behind her ears. Sarah put in minimal effort, knowing that she couldn't care less about this dinner.