Communicating Vessels [COMPLETED]

Chapter 7

On Thursday night, I hurried back to my flat after work. I took a quick shower and hopped in a pair of red jeans, a plain black tee-shirt, and my neon green Docs. I tied my hair into a messy bun on top of my head and used a red scarf as a headband. I refreshed my makeup but did not put more on since it was just a casual dinner.

Ginger Dude rang my doorbell at seven sharp. When I opened the door, it became clear that he had lied to me about the dress code. He was wearing a white button-down shirt, tan slacks, and brown Oxford shoes. His smile disappeared once he saw my outfit.

"You look... good," he lied, like he had been taught to when commenting on a woman's clothes.

"We both know you don't mean that," I called him out. "Didn't you say it was a casual dinner? Why are you so dressed up?"

"This is my casual outfit."

"No. This," I pointed at my body, "is casual. Come on in and make yourself comfortable, I'll change."

"We don't have time for that, and you look great anyway."

"Please. Spare us both our time and don't lie to me. You can either wait here or inside, but I'm changing either way. I'm not going into the lion's den underdressed."

He sighed but gave in and went to sit on my couch while I searched my closet.

"What should I wear?" I asked for advice.

"Anything you want," he replied, almost as reflex.

"What did I just say about not wasting time? You clearly have an opinion on the matter, just say it."

"Fine. A dress would be more appropriate, I suppose."

"I'll need more details. A long dress? A short one? Blue, green, red, purple, yellow?"

He wrinkled his nose as I listed the many colors of dresses I owned.

"Keep it simple," he advised. "A short black dress will do."

I put on a strapless, black tutu dress with royal blue pumps and a red faux-leather jacket. I styled my hair into a more sophisticated bun but kept the headband on, and I slightly darkened the makeup I already had on.

"I'm ready," I announced when I was done, twenty minutes later.

"Great. Can we go, now?" He looked impatiently at his watch.

GD's car was waiting for us in my building's lot. As the old-fashioned gentleman that he was, he opened the door for me to get in. The trip to our hosts' house was quiet and particularly uncomfortable.

What am I doing? I kept repeating in my head. I've agreed to escort my boss to a dinner party with people from the same world as him. They're going to eat me alive and spit me back out.

No. I would fight back.

"So, what's your strategy for tonight?" I asked.

"What do you mean?  I don't have any," he said.

"We need to set our stories straight in case people ask questions. First of all, I'll have to call you Arthur."

"All right, Abril."

"You can call me Abby, if you prefer."

"Abril is your name, I'll call you Abril."

It was nice to hear my real name, for once. Only my parents and other Latinos called me by my actual name. I had taken a habit of telling people to call me Abby after so many times being called April.

"Okay. We'll have to say we met no more than two months ago, so it's not abnormal l if you don't know things about me. Where did we meet?"

"At the store?" He proposed. "This way it's not a complete lie."