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“Like, how? He won an award. I don’t think there’s much to judge. He’s dressed nice. He has the body of a god. He’s tall with those crazy broad shoulders and he looks like he works out every day all day and drinks protein shakes for every single meal. He has what people would call chiseled features. He has a strong jawline, a face that is both way too pretty and far too masculine at the same time. And he’s blonde. What the heck could we possibly judge?”
Chantara blinked hard and Callie realized way too late that she’d just given herself away. Big time. “Right… and you don’t find all that perfection and chiseledness attractive?”
Callie fought to regain her equilibrium. Another quick glance told her everyone at the table was still oblivious to the fact that they were sitting there not paying attention to the program at all. Maybe they can’t concentrate on anything because they are slowly dying of hunger. Maybe they’re being eaten away from the inside out just like I am. The painful fist in her stomach kept on getting tighter and tighter with every passing moment.
“I don’t,” she finally whispered back. “Because we work together so first of all, that is completely out of line and off-limits. Secondly, I told you, he’s not my type.”
“Matt Hilbert is everyone’s type. Not mine either though. Like I said, I like them way- uh- rougher around the edges.”
“Yeah. I know that. And I’m serious about what I said. I’m not interested in Matt Hilbert. Even if he is attractive, that means nothing. Sometimes people’s personalities come through and make them unattractive because seriously, deep down, under those fine, flawless layers, they are.”
“Yeah, yeah, the whole inner beauty or inner ugliness thing. I get it.” Chantara indicated the front eagerly. “Listen, it’s over! Jack Bron is coming up to announce dinner! He always comes up every single year to give the instructions. Hallefuckinglujah.”
Callie couldn’t agree more. Their table had to wait another twenty minutes while the instructions were given, and other tables were allowed to go before them. By the time they got to line up, she was just about at the point where she could have eaten the dinner plate and probably the knife and fork too, maybe the napkins as well.
Chantara stood in line right behind Callie. She decided to be a good bestie and passed over an extra plate and napkin. She turned to hand them over and as she did, she must have blinked funny, because her contact popped right out.
“Oh my god!” Callie nearly wailed. “Chantara! I just lost my contact!”
“What? Which one?”
“Does that matter at the moment? We’re not going to find it and even if we do, I wouldn’t stick it back in my eyes. We’re just about to eat and now I’m not even going to be able to see what we’re eating.”
“Oh my god. Okay. Stay calm.” Chantara’s hand closed around Callie’s elbow. “We’ll just go back to the table and get your glasses. Take the other contact out and you’re good, right?”
“No! I completely forgot to bring them.”
“What?”
“I only brought that stupid little clutch and it just has my money and phone and ID card.”
“Okay, okay.” Chantara’s hand tightened. “Don’t worry.” She stepped in front of Callie and pulled her behind her.
“I can’t keep just one in. I’m going to get sick to my stomach. I feel completely dizzy already just looking around like this. One eye, I can see nothing out of but blur and blobs and the other is completely in focus.”
“You could just walk around with your bad eye closed all night. Or we could try and find the contact and you could wash it in the bathroom sink.”
Callie sighed. She felt close to crying. Probably because she was so damn hungry. “There’s no chance of that happening now. It’s probably been stepped all over and ruined. They’re just disposables so it wouldn’t have mattered if it wasn’t for the fact that I can’t freaking see.”
“It’s okay,” Chantara soothed. “I’ll just guide you along the buffet. Just keep your bad eye closed and fill up your plate. When we get back to the table, you can take the other one out.”
“I won’t be able to see what’s going on all night.”
“You probably won’t want to. They are opening up the bar right away. People are just going to get drunk and swap shitty work stories. Because, you know, no one actually has a life outside this place.”
“Because corporate meetings and paperwork and business lunches are so exciting.”
“I know. It’s bad.”
“Remind me again why you made me come to this? I didn’t want to go, and you forced me. You said you needed a wingman. We could just leave after dinner.”
“And miss the one-dollar drinks? Not a chance. This is the one night a year selling insurance actually pays off.”
