A dinner party

It’s been a few minutes since we got back to the office. I can’t help the dread feeling in my body that something terrible will happen to me. After the meeting finished, Mr. Jason did not say anything to me the whole ride back to the office. I could feel his eyes glaring at the back of my head the entire ride to the office. The worst part in all of this is I don’t know what I did wrong this time. I have been pacing up and down around my desk while biting my nails; it’s a bad habit I do when I am nervous. I am so scared of Mr. Jason doing something harmful to me. The bruise on my arm might not have been intentional, but it hurt, so I imagine if he wants to hurt me intentionally.

I jump in fear when I suddenly hear the phone ringing. I knew he would call me to come to his office, but I didn’t think it would be this soon. I take my time to pick up the phone and answer. Before words can form in my mouth, he speaks and cuts the call. I am lucky I was able to hear him before he cut the call.

I take three deep breaths before I walk to his office. I knock before entering but don’t wait for him to say come in since he already asked me to come. I find him pacing his office floor, and I wonder why. What could possibly make him pace up and down his office?

“Eleanor, sit down!” He says with a stern face.

I don’t say anything and do as I am told. I sit down on the couch not too far away from his desk. He is pacing around his desk area, so I felt it would be better to sit on the couch. I play with my fingers as I wait for him to speak.

“Please, Eleanor, tell me why you had to wait for Mr. Moretti to tell you to sit down before you sat down,” He asks, shocking me with his question.

I knew he was angry at me, but I would have never guessed it to be because I didn’t sit down. I assumed it might have been because I sat down, not because I didn’t.

“I didn’t sit down until I was asked too because I didn’t know if I should sit with you and Mr. Moretti,” I answer truthfully, but this only makes my situation worse.

“You didn’t know if you should sit down with us or not. Did you see anywhere else to sit? You made me look like a horrible boss in front of Mr. Moretti,” He says, walking closer to where I am sitting. I am looking at the floor, so the only way I know he is close to me is because I can see his shoe in front of my leg. I try my best not to look up at him. I am sure he must be throwing daggers at my head right now.

“Mr. Jason, I am so……….” I don’t get to finish talking because of the loud thump heard in the room. He banged his hand hard on the arm of the couch. This causes me to lift my eyes and widen them in shock.

“Didn’t I tell you to never say that word to me,” He says, staring at me with anger blazing in his eyes. I am too scared right now to maintain eye contact with him, so I look back down.

I know he says he is angry at me because I waited to be told to sit down before I did. But I don’t think all this anger he has for me right now is because of that. I don’t know, but I feel his anger towards me is more than what meets the eye.

“I apologize, sir,” I say, hoping my choices of words are good this time.

He releases a dark chuckle before he speaks. “Wow, you apologize. I think you have a degree in making me mad,” He says and changes his face back to a frown. The way he can switch in between moods is impressive.

“My intention was never to make you look bad; I promise next time that won’t happen,” I say, hoping he would drop the matter.

“You better make sure it does not, now get out of my sight,” He says and gives me enough space to walk away from him.

The second I step out of his office, I release a breath of relief. What in God’s name just happened? Mr. Jason gets so worked up about minor issues every time. I am starting to wonder if his anger towards me has to do with something else. I know he thinks I am after his money, but I don’t think the way he behaved earlier is because of that.

A few days have passed since I came back to work and that lunch meeting with Mr. Moretti. Mr. Jason has only asked me to attend meetings here at the office. He takes Vivienne with him for all his meetings outside the office, and truth be told, I don’t mind. All I care about is that I get to do some proper work at the office.

Today is Friday, and I can’t wait to go home and sleep past my alarm the following day. I am getting ready to leave the office when the phone rings. I answer, wondering what Mr. Jason wants a few minutes before I leave work.

“Hello, sir,” I say, answering the phone.

“Come to my office,” He says and hangs up once he is done talking like always.

I knock and enter his office after he tells me to come in.

“What can I help you with, sir?” I say once I am in front of him

“Tomorrow you will go shopping with Vivienne for a dress. We have a party to attend on Sunday, and I need you to look presentable,” He says, ruining all my plans for the weekend.

Nooooooo, I shout in my head. I can’t believe my plans for the weekend can’t happen. I really wanted to spend this weekend resting at home.

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, can Miss Vivienne accompany you to this party on Sunday. I had plans of my own this weekend,” I say, hoping he will agree, but I am not surprised with his answer. I was just trying my luck.

“Never do that again,” He says sternly.

“Never do what again, sir,” I ask, confused with what I did to be told never to do it again.

“Never suggest something to me, and I don’t care if you have plans. Be at this venue by 8 pm,” He says, handing me a card.

“Okay, sir,” I say, collecting the card from his hand.

Sometimes I ask myself if dealing with an arrogant boss during the week is worth it. I know it is, but I can’t help the urge sometimes to want to quit.

It’s Sunday evening, and I am doing last minute touch-up on my face before I walk outside and find a cab to take me to the venue. Saturday was spent horribly because I spend it with Vivienne. Shopping with her felt like the most difficult thing in my life yesterday. It was so hard to find anything we both liked, and that was because, for some odd reason, Vivienne wanted me to look like a slut at the dinner party tonight. I don’t even know how we agreed on the dress I am wearing right now. It’s a peach beaded lace and tulle dress with an overlapping halter neckline and a slit. I think it’s because the dress is a little slutty, but not too much. I pick up the black clutch Vivienne chose for me and walk out of the house. I hail a cab and give the taxi driver the address of the place. Vivienne decided everything I am wearing except the dress. I am talking about my shoes, jewelry, and clutch. We made a deal that if she let me pick out the dress, she can decide everything else. She also paid for everything with Mr. Jason’s card. That was the main reason we had to shop together. Mr. Jason does not trust me with his card. But He still wanted me to look presentable according to his words, so he asked Vivienne to take me shopping. He wanted her to be the one to handle paying with his card. I am not surprised he does not trust me with his card. I would have been actually astonished if he did trust me with it.

After a few minutes, the cab comes to a halt at the venue. I pay the taxi man, walk out of the taxi, and wait at the entrance for Mr. Jason. I am supposed to go in with him, and he asked me to come a few minutes earlier than him.

I don’t wait long before Mr. Jason arrives; he steps out of his Lamborghini, looking as attractive as ever. His hair is dyed all black and gelled back. He throws his keys to the valet, and I don’t know why but that looked sexy. He walks closer to me after buttoning his black tuxedo that I am sure cost more than my dress. The tuxedo does little to hide his fantastic body. His biceps are still visible as he touches his suit jacket to make sure he looks good.

“Good, you look presentable,” He says once he is in front of me.

Wow, see me here admiring him, and the words he uses to compliment me are I look presentable. Would it hurt him to use a nicer word like you look lovely or nice and not presentable? I don’t know why I even expected him to say anything nice to me.

“Thank you, sir,” I say with a fake smile.

He grabs my arm and pulls me closer to him. His strong manly cologne drifts through my nose, and he smells divine. I wonder why such an arrogant person like him smells good. He should smell like shit. “Once we are inside, make sure you don’t do anything to embarrass me or make me look bad,” He says, whispering into my ear.

“Yes, sir,” I say, nodding my head, but I think I just made my first mistake of the night. In the process of shaking my head, I bump my head with his, and his head is hard. God, it’s like he has a rock for a head.

“Oh, my God, we haven’t even entered, and you have already found a way to annoy me,” He says, annoyed, as he rubs his forehead. “Come on,” He says, pulling me inside with him as I try to rub the pain away from my forehead. Why is he making it seem like it’s my fault that we bumped heads? If he did not come so close to me, I wouldn’t have bumped heads with him while nodding.

We enter the ballroom, and I have never felt more out of place in my life than I feel right now. The room is filled with rich people everywhere, and even though my dress cost a few thousand courtesies of Mr. Jason’s card. I still feel like I am wearing rags once I see all the designer clothes the women and men are wearing. I try my best not to allow that to get to me because even though Mr. Jason said I look presentable, I believe I look beautiful. After all, that’s what Uncle Jack and Amber told me before I left the house, and I believe them.

He drops my hand the second we enter the hall but asks me to follow him. We walk towards a group of men, and I only recognize one of them, Mr. Moretti.

“Hello, Mr. Moretti,” Mr. Jason says; we reach the group of men.

“Hello Mr. Crawford, I am happy you were able to attend my party tonight and brought the lovely lady from last time,” He says, smiling at me.

“Hi, Mr. Moretti,” I say, smiling back.

“How are you doing, dear?” He says, staring at me, and takes my hand and leaves a little peck on the back of my palm. This causes my cheeks to become beet red.

“I am doing great, sir and you,”

“I am doing great too, Bella,” He says, winking at me with a smirk on his face. Does Mr. Moretti have an interest in me? I suddenly feel shy with the attention he is giving me.

“Do you mind if we find somewhere private to discuss?” Mr. Jason says and pulls me by the waist to his side. Why did he pull me away from Mr. Moretti? I can feel his nails digging into my waist, and I wonder why. I don’t think the way I was talking to Mr. Moretti was wrong in any way.

“No, of course not, this way, Mr. Crawford,” He says, leading Mr. Jason away, but before Mr. Jason walks away, he whispers something into my ears.

“I suggest you stop selling yourself to these men here and act more professional,” He says through clenched teeth before he walks away.

Oh my God, was that why he pulled me away from Mr. Moretti. He thinks the way I was talking to him was like a slut. I don’t think so, and even if I was, why can’t he just tell me nicely instead of digging his nails into my skin.