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But worst of all, I see AJ standing in his doorway, watching me with a disappointed expression.
* * *
Imake it through the rest of the day without another interaction with the Vargas brothers. Sure enough, I have several text messages from both Sandro and Elian as soon as I leave work, and I indulge in some harmless flirting through the evening. Tonight both my parents are home, and we have a family dinner with all five of us sitting around a table together. We do family dinner as often as we are able, but at least once a week, on Thursday nights. Mom works the night shift on Wednesday, Sunday, and Monday, and Dad has evenings on a rotating schedule, so his only nights at home right now are Thursday and Friday. In another month, he’ll switch to the day shift for the quarter and be home every evening.
My brother is ten, and in the fall he’ll be eleven. Although he is probably smart enough to watch our little sister for the few hours gap between when Mom leaves and Dad gets home, my parents have strong opinions on forcing kids to grow up too soon. They expect us to be personally responsible, but they didn’t allow me to babysit until I was thirteen, and that’s the soonest they’ll let Andrew take over.
I know, now that I have a proper job and am out of college, time is ticking down on remaining at home. Soon it’ll be time for me to leave the nest for good; I’m already calculating how much of my paycheck I can save, how quickly I’ll be able to afford a down payment on a new car, furnishings for an apartment, a security deposit.
But as I share a meal with my family, I’m glad I can still say ‘not yet.’
Chapter7
Friday is quiet. I begin work on new sketches with the changes Vincente requested, and then once AJ approves them I start work in the 3D modeling software to flesh out the building and provide an accurate render, along with all the necessary measurements.
AJ gathers us all to go to lunch together, and even though the hit is painful, I charge my expensive salad to my credit card.
Whatever it takes to show I’m part of the team.
When AJ leaves around two pm I think little of it; he seems to flit in and out of the office a lot, running to have meetings with clients at their office instead of requiring them to come to him.
However, I know something is different when other people disappear as well.
By four, I’m the only person left in the office, aside from Rebecca. She is still dutifully answering the phones, which ring through to my coworkers’ desks once, then get transferred to their cell phones.
Sothisis how the system works.
Being the low man on the totem pole, with nowhere else to be, I don’t mind being in the office alone. At the very least, I figure I can goof off now and enjoy the peace before I head home. My mom has a girl’s night planned with her work friends, so I’m certain my dad will be watching wrestling with my little brother and dinner will be a carry-out pizza. Not much to rush home to there.
I’m deep in a word puzzle on my phone when I hear Rebecca’s heels clacking on the slate tiles. I glance up, surprised to see her carrying a large, flat, artfully wrapped box and wearing an excited grin. “This just arrived for you,” she says with a knowing smile. “Do you know who it’s from?”
My heart races, and my hands begin to shake as she sets it on my desk.
“Honestly, I have no idea,” I answer with a laugh. “The way this week is going, it could be Ricky Martin, for all I know.”
“Don’t leave a girl hanging. Open it!” She encourages. Rebecca is just as excited as I am, and her energy is infectious.
I tug the wide red satin ribbon, untying the ornate bow and freeing it from the package. Then I find an edge and rip the heavy gold paper, revealing a plain white box with the name of an expensive dress boutique embossed on the top.
“Oooh,” Rebecca breathes. “I’ve always wanted one of their dresses! Open it! I’m dying over here.”
I tug the top cover off the box, revealing layers of white tissue paper with an envelope on top. With trembling fingers, I lift the flap and withdraw a single flat card, embossed with gold around the edges.
“In my world, nothing to wear isn’t an excuse. It’s a challenge. Meet me out front at 5:15 sharp.” - Vincente Vargas, Jr.
“Oh, my god it’s like Pretty Woman,” Rebecca gasps. “Except, I mean, you’re not a hooker.”
Nervous laughter rips from my chest. “Right, not a hooker.” I stare down at the nest of tissue paper, terrified of what lay beneath the layers. “What if it’s terrible?”
Rebecca tsks. “Nothing fromBelle Amieis terrible. It’s all extraordinarily elegant. What are you waiting for??”
My stomach in knots, I pull apart the layers of tissue to reveal a metallic gold dress. Ornate beading creates a subtle pattern, descending from both straps in an elegant v-neck, and as I pull it from the box, I reveal a floor-length gown with a relatively modest cut, aside from a single thigh slit that reveals layers of light, gauzy ruffles trailing to the floor.
“It’s stunning,” Rebecca gasps, “and look, accessories!”
Sure enough, beneath the dress was a shoe box with a matching pair in my exact size, along with a small clutch purse and tiny silk bag of jewelery, just a pair of gold chandelier earrings and a matching ring.
I just stare at it in shock. “Is this real? I mean, is this actually happening right now? Stuff like this doesn’t happen in real life, right?”
