The strength of attraction

He bought me a gift, Angela marveled, smiling at her reflection in the mirror of her office convenience.

The space wasn't as big as she met the CEO's bathroom while on the quest to dry the other shirt. Still, nothing about Rex-field was less.

Immersed in the intricate weaving, she imagined how much it cost. As for his ability to guess her body size, she concluded perhaps he wasn't that bad.

Excited to own such a craft, she twirls, giggling and admiring her new outfit like an adolescent. Indeed, the designer made her appear smart and expensive.

The material was also accommodating, and its texture aligned with the skirt she wore when compared to the one Maya lent to her.

Again, her face falls from remembering her friend's ruined shirt and even more so, of her reaction when she would tell her about it.

Just like that, Angela became gloomy, to further alter her state of mind. Her phone rings next. Crap, Rex was the one calling.

“Hello, sir?”