But what else do I have that’s appropriate? If I had more free time, my closet would be filled with clothes that fit me perfectly because I’m an excellent tailor. But by the time I get home, the last thing I want to do is to pull out my sewing kit. As a result, my personal wardrobe has paid the price for my success in fashion design. It’s ironic, really.
At that moment, my roomie Megan swans in.
“What is that?” she asks, looking at my suit with confusion. “Have you suddenly gone corporate? That looks really weird.”
I sigh.
“I know, but I have a business dinner tonight and this is the only thing that’s appropriate. What do you think?”
Megan makes a face.
“Absolutely not, Addy. As your friend and a fellow fashion designer, I can’t let you leave the apartment wearing that.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t know what else to wear. I don’t have anything else to wear.”
Megan merely disappears into her own room for a moment. She’s a curvy girl like me, so I know she’s probably digging through her own collection of clothes. To be honest, it’s great being her roommate, even if we share a teeny-tiny apartment. After a long week at work, we usually spend a weekend night with wine, lamenting the trials and tribulations of our respective jobs. Megan gets it because she works for Lulu, an athleisure clothing brand, so she knows how ruthless this industry can be.
Lulu recently put out a plus sized line, but it took Megan a lot of work to convince them to do it. It’s kind of crazy to me, since Lulu’s clothes are often active wear that also work in other settings. Why not make active clothing for plus sized women? Just because they’re bigger doesn’t mean they’re not interested in working out. I love going for walks. I bought pretty much everything Megan designed for the newest Lulu line, and I wear those outfits more than anything else.
Finally, she reappears triumphantly.
“Got it!” My friend has a royal blue cocktail dress in front of her. It’s velvety and soft, and sure to hug my curves.
I stare at it. “Absolutely not.”
Megan’s eyebrow shoots up.
“Trust me, Addy. This is a good idea. You need to wear a dress because that suit is fucking awful. I don’t know what this dinner is about, but you cannot wear that. What kind of business dinner is this anyways? I didn’t know you had to do stuff like this.”
I sigh.
“It’s with my boss.”
Megan scrunches her face. “That bitch, Marissa? Does she even eat?”
I laugh and shake my head.
“Nope. But you haven’t heard the news? I thought it was all over the fashion media. Marissa is out of the picture.”
Megan’s eyes widen.
“Seriously? Holy shit. I thought she co-founded the House of Steele with her husband. But who are you having dinner with, then, if not Marissa?”
I make a face.
“Said husband. Marcus Steele has taken over as sole owner of the House of Steele. And he promoted me to head designer.”
Megan gasps.
“Holy shit, girlfriend! You have a date with Marcus Steele?”
I blush.
“It’s not a date! It’s a business dinner.”
Megan scoffs.
“Please. I’ve seen pictures of Marcus in magazines and he is smokin’. Nothing with that man is just dinner.”
Meanwhile, my stomach fills with butterflies all over again. Is Megan right? Could this dinner turn into something more?
“You’re wrong,” I say decisively. “We’re just having a meal together to get to know each other. I’m the new head designer, so it makes sense.”
Megan squeals, shaking her head furiously.
“I don’t care what he calls it, or what you think! Anytime you’re sitting two feet away from that man is an opportunity to look your best. Plus, he’s divorced now,” she swoons. “I’d love to go to dinner with him.”
I make a wry face.
“Yeah, but I thought you were head over heels for that new guy.”
Megan grins and pops back up.
“You mean Hector? Yeah, I guess he’s okay. But enough about me. Hector can wait. You need to try on this dress, Adds.”
I stare at it doubtfully again.
“But isn’t this going to send the wrong message?”
“What, that you’re a hot young woman with a smokin’ body?”
“Megan.”
“I’m serious, Addy. Put. The. Dress. On. Trust me on this.”
Sighing, I go into our shared bathroom and slip into the outfit before coming out again.
“See, I told you,” Megan says with satisfaction, looking me over. “Now this is an outfit worthy of a date with Marcus Steele.”
I stare at myself. It’s certainly flattering, that’s for certain. The blue velvet hugs my curves in all the right spots without looking trashy, and when I step into a pair of matching blue pumps, my breasts are pushed forward and my stomach tucks itself in a bit. I look curvy and ripe, not overweight and sloppy.
“Okay, okay, I’ll wear it,” I assure Megan. “Thank you for your help.”
She kisses my cheek. “Always, sweetie. Now wish me luck. I’m going on my third date with Hector.”
“Third date? Wow, is that a record?” I ask wryly.
Megan flips me off. “I’ve made it to four before. I think. But I don’t know if Hector’s going to make it to four because I don’t really like his name.”
I laugh.
“Hector is a perfectly nice name.”
But Megan shakes her head.
“Do you think I can get him to change it?”
I smile.
“Maybe if you try hard enough.”
My friend nods with satisfaction again.
“Well, I’m a determined person, so we’ll see. I’ll let you know my progress. And good luck with your ‘business dinner.’”
“Thanks. I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Hopefully not!” Megan calls as she leaves my room. “I hope you’re ravished by Marcus Steele and that I don’t see you until tomorrow morning. Or maybe until the weekend because you’re lazing around
