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A quick swipe to DoorDash on my phone lets me make my order without ever talking to a human, something I appreciate more than I ever thought I would. I think I’d rather starve tonight than talk to another person who gives me even the slightest bit of anxiety.
When I plop down on my chair, I glance at our coffee table, which still holds the Bronze Goddess package. I’m pretty ignorant about the stuff. Tomorrow, we have to nail down the exact things we’re doing with these videos, and I’m clueless.
I press the confirm order button and take a breath. Once again, work’s going to poke its ugly head in and ruin a perfectly good night. I need to experience what it’s like to go from pale book dragon to Bronze Goddess.
And I think I might have heart palpitations because of it.
The chocolate-colored bottle is simple with a New Age goddess image on the front. I turn it over and read the directions. Exfoliate. Smother myself in it. Pray I don’t have an allergic reaction or screw it up. Wash it off. Sounds simple enough.
I remember using this stuff as a kid, but it’s been almost ten years since I even looked at a bottle of self-tanner. I’ve done my best to block out the memories of those makeup sessions as best I can. This is going to require some wine.
I grab a bottle from the fridge and go to my bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. It’s hard to imagine myself with a dark tan like this stuff promises. It’s not that I hate going outside or seeing the sun, but if someone gave me the choice of relaxing with a new book or going to the beach, I’d pick the book every time.
Thinking about myself looking like I’d just gone to the tanning bed makes me a little nauseous. That’s just not me anymore. It gives me flashbacks to my childhood, back to the days of glitz and glam that I’ve tried so hard to outrun. But I still need to figure out how this stuff works.
It’s only supposed to last for two weeks to a month, so I can just do a test run somewhere nobody will see. It’s not like I have a boyfriend who’ll laugh at a little patchwork tanning experiment.
But what if Emery or someone else at work invites me to a pool party again? Or anywhere else that requires a bathing suit? What if it’s a required work event? There’s only so many places I can cover up with a bikini.
This might take more than a little wine. I unscrew the cap on the nine-dollar bottle of Moscato and take a swig. Why dirty a dish when there’s no one here to judge me except that bottle of tanner?
I strip off my clothes, and right before I open the bottle, I hear a knock on the door and a text. My phone shows that it’s the DoorDash driver with my sushi and chicken fried rice.
With a glance down at my office wear, I decide that I’m done with professional clothes for the day. I need some comfy clothes if I’m going to be experimenting with beauty products for the first time.
I grab the sweatpants my mom bought me when I was a junior in high school, one of the few things I still have from my childhood other than books, and a tank-top that’s a bit too tight on me.
I step into the corridor outside our apartment and grab the bag of food. There’s something about good Asian takeout that nothing else ever beats. Tessa and I lived on it during finals every semester. Unlike pizza or burgers, it never made me feel sleepy or bloated, and it became the official too-busy-to-cook dinner.
As soon as I sit down at the table, the door swings open again and nearly gives me a heart attack. Tessa’s out of breath like she ran all the way up to the third floor. She’s still wearing her office clothes.
“Sorry for not texting back. Mark is downstairs in an Uber.” She’s trying to fit in words in between breaths, and it’s barely working. Mark is the senior consultant she’s been assigned to. An official asshole, according to Tessa. If she’s the Data Slave, he’s the taskmaster, and I don’t think I’ve heard Tessa say a single good thing about him so far.
She runs into the bedroom, and I hear her throwing things around. More than a little curious, I push my food away to see what she’s doing.
When I look in on her, she’s got her suitcase wide open on her bed, and she’s throwing things at it from her closet. I’ve never seen her act like this before.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m leaving for Chicago for three days, and Mark says that if I’m not back in the Uber in the next ten minutes, he’s leaving without me.” She says all of this as she smashes her clothes and shoes into the suitcase and zips it.
She grabs her bag, and I say, “Good luck. Don’t kill Mark.”
Tessa gives me a grin, and I finally realize that she’s not just stressed. She’s excited in a way I’ve never seen her. I guess this is what she dreamed of when she hired on as a management consultant. Everything until this has been training for her, but this is the real deal. She’s going to go fix a business.
“See you in three days,” she says as she rolls the suitcase out of the apartment. When the door closes behind her, I’m left in silence. This was not how I planned the night to go. I stand in the silence of her bedroom for a moment before letting the tension in me out.
I guess I’ll go eat my sushi and rice then. At least I don’t have to worry about anyone being home to witness me smother my butt in fake tanner.
Chapter 8
Madison
I’m standing naked in my bathroom with Bronze Goddess all over both of my butt cheeks, and I look like I sat in a puddle of pudding. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Emery should give me a pay raise for having to walk around like I have a strange skin disease.
For the first time in my life, I’m thankful that I don’t have a boyfriend or even a friend with benefits. I don’t think I’d be able to handle someone seeing this.
And then there’s a knock on the door.
