Open My Eyes

Eight: Jerk Tendencies

I stuffed my phone back into my clutch after checking the time. I glanced back at my car to make sure I'd locked it before rolling my shoulders and walking into the building.

My mom's metal artwork was being showcased and she wanted her family there to share in the excitement of her exhibit. Unfortunately, Kae obviously couldn't make it so it was up to me to play the part of the charismatic daughter.

The art museum was a series of different rooms connected by single doorways. The first room was the largest and showcased the latest and greatest exhibits. This was the room that changed the most. It was essentially a large, empty ballroom, with hickory flooring and arching ceilings. Lights caused the room to glow golden and the artwork on the walls and floor to shine. This was the room in which my mother's art was presented.

It was the first art premiere of the year, an event in which the museum shows all new exhibits in every room including the front room. The mayor even showed up, so it was unmistakably a high-class event. Which meant fancy dresses and high heels for me.

Mom spotted me easily. She excused herself from the conversation and rushed over to me. She hugged me tightly and then looked around the room. "So what do you think? They've even used a few of my photos!"

I glanced at the artistic photos of landscapes on the walls and smiled. "It's beautiful."

"I'm so nervous," she admitted shakily, wringing her hands.

Shaking my head, I assured her, "You'll be fine, Ma. Everyone loves your art and they love you just as much."

"Thanks, sweetie," she replied automatically, but she didn't look convinced. She glanced at me but did a double take. She looked me up and down with a raised brow. "Don't you think you could've worn something else?"

I looked down at my outfit and back at her. Innocently, I questioned, "Is there something wrong with it?"

Her lips pursed in disapproval. "It's not very . . . appropriate," she commented, eyeing me. "You should have gone with something with a bit more taste. Something a bit classier for such an event"

Rolling my eyes, I put a hand on my hip and asked, "Is it because I'm wearing a pushup bra?"

"And your dress is strapless," she pointed out. She leaned closer to me to whisper, "Your breasts are practically falling out of that dress."

My eyes fell to my chest and I huffed. I took my hair and brought it over my shoulder to cover the majority of my cleavage. I whispered back, "Is that better?"

She nodded tersely, but she still didn't look very happy with my wardrobe choice. She warned, "Don't come crying to me when old men hit on you." When I simply laughed, she glared at me before walking off to greet an admirer.

For the event, I had decided on a strapless dress of white lace sewn in a flowery pattern. A white ribbon wrapped around my body underneath my breasts for added support. Under the ribbon, the dress widened out until it fell to just above my knee. The sheer lace would have been quite revealing if the white under-layer wasn't there. The layer ended near my thighs, so the rest of the fabric was rather diaphanous. I wore silver heels with open toes and a strap around the ankle, boosting the overall elegance of my outfit.

I had given my hair soft curls which cascaded over my cleavage, since Mom hadn't approved. I put large white hoops in my ears which almost disappeared into my blond hair. On my right wrist, I wore a silver bracelet, comprised of tiny, fake diamonds. My makeup was thick: heavy eyeliner, deep brown eyeshadow, layers of black mascara. I painted my lips a soft pink and added a bit of blush to my cheeks. Overall, I looked like a sexy, sophisticated socialite ready for a high-end party.