The Naive Secretary And The Harsh Boss

Chapter 22

{Song in video: Maroon 5 ft. SZA - What Lovers Do}

Today was now the day of my parents' dinner.

I sighed as I got ready for dinner. I decided to put on a casual dress and heels on.

This is going to be a long day.

"Bye, Chels!" I exclaimed as I walked out of the door.

"Bye, Stace!" Chelsea said to me as she sat on the couch using the laptop to search for more jobs.

I went to Vince's car, since we decided that I would ride with him.

"Hey," Vince said, smiling. "As usual, you look gorgeous."

"Hey," I said, smiling back. "And as usual, you look handsome." I gave him a peck on the lips before setting up the GPS to my parents' house.

We got there about ten minutes later, and parked in the driveway.

Vince must have noticed my worried facial expression, because he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said with a reassuring nod. "I'm just warning you that my parents can be weird with stuff."

"It'll be okay." He gave me a reassuring smile, and held my hand. "We should go inside before they wonder what's taking so long though."

"Yeah, you're right." I grabbed my purse, and then we headed toward the front door.

I rang the doorbell, and a few seconds later, my mom opened the door. "Hello, Anastasia and Vincent, come on in!" She exclaimed happily.

"Hey, mom," I said to her, smiling.

"Hello, Mrs. Marks," Vince said to my mom.

The first thing I noticed was the familiar smell of my mom's homemade spaghetti and meatballs. I felt hungry as soon as I smelled it.

"Excuse me for just one moment. I'm going to get Steven," my mom said, and then walked to the kitchen to get my dad.

About twenty seconds later, my dad followed my mom to where Vince and I were standing, which was in front of the door.

"Hello, Anastasia and Vincent," my dad said to us.

"Hey, dad," I said to him.

"Hello, Mr. Marks," Vince said to him, and shook his hand.

"We can all sit at the dining table as we wait for dinner to be done. It's almost ready," my mom said.

"Is it spaghetti and meatballs?" I asked as we followed my parents to the dining room.

"Yes, it is," my mom said, smiling. "You actually remember."

"Yes, I do." I nodded. "I could never forget your homemade meals."

We sat down at the dining table. My dad sat at the head of the table, my mom to his right, and I sat next to my dad on his left, and Vince sat to the right of me.

My dad frowned as we sat down. "Anastasia, that dress is way too short and tight," he said. "You should dress more modest."

I tried to stretch out my dress a little longer, but it didn't work. I sighed, hoping this dinner would miraculously be over with soon.

"At least you don't dress as bad as that best friend of yours...that Chelsea girl," my dad continued. "She dresses like a total floozy."

"Steven," my mom warned.

"Chelsea isn't a floozy," I said, rolling my eyes at the ridiculous word. "She's my best friend, and I'm currently helping her out since she recently lost her job."