𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 - 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚔

out for dinner.

"Do you think this dress is too fancy for it?" I ask, staring at the mirror. I turn around a few times to check on my outfit and there is nothing more flamboyant than this. I only wore this dress in my cousin's wedding and since then, I have avoided even looking at it in my closet.

"Where is he taking you?" Garrett asks, laid on my bed, playing with a pair of high heels.

"Alyn Williams, at The Westbury." I say, concerned. This place is so fancy that it has five stars rate on Google.

"He must be really into you if he is willing to take to a five-star restaurant at Mayfair." Something in his tone makes it look like he's joking. Suddenly, my hopes are very low.

"Maybe I shouldn't go and cancel the date."

I sit on the edge of the bed, looking for a reason for me to go along with this. It's been four years since I've been in a relationship or a date. This is the first time I'm opening myself up to this again. My insecurities are killing me and see myself like this only makes me have second thoughts. If Rami is really interested in me, if I'm ready to be in a relationship again, if this is gonna affect us at work. Garrett sees my disappointment and tries to instruct me.

"Stop overthinking. He seems a nice guy and is nothing official, just go to have yourself a good time, you know, be treated nice, eat good food." He caresses my hair as if I was a puppy.

"I don't want to be heartbroken again. It is too painful." I say, with my head low having seconds thoughts about this dress.

"Bitch he asked you out two days ago and now you're gonna tell you don't wanna go?" He basically shouts.

"I'm scared." I get up, feeling the anxiety pressing my lungs against my ribs.

"You don't need to be, don't think about this as a date, think about it like two friends who work together."

He puts the shoe on the bed. On his knees, he crawls to the edge of the bed and sits on the calf. I hate he looks like this at me as if he feeling pity. As if I was a forty-year-old woman with four cats at home and no one to love. Like an unattractive piece of meat in a barbecue gathering. "Stop looking at me like that," I tell him, still checking on me through the mirror.

Everything is gonna be okay. You're just going out for dinner.

•

The hairdryer puts my hair in place put my mind is all over the place. The warm heat blows, but suddenly I don't feel like going out. I know I'm gonna screw this anyway.

"I need to do your make up yet." Garrett screams from my bedroom.

I turn the hairdryer off. I put it hanging behind my door and before leaving the bathroom, I take a glimpse on my hair. A few locks of hair fall in front of my eyes so I just tuck them behind my ears, to reveal dangling gold earrings. I take a few steps to my black chair and take out the freshly washed clothes, throwing them into bed. Garrett awaits me with a sponge in my hand, ready to do a miracle on me. I sit and cross my legs. The sponge is cold and moist, and I can already feel my pores screaming for help. It doesn't take long for my makeup to be ready, since this time, he decided to decrease the number of products. I feel weird about wearing dark lipstick because I never felt good with strong tones.

I put my shoes on and I can already feel my fingers being crushed by the thin strip that holds them together. I walk into the room, looking for the purse I threw somewhere. The furniture in this House has never changed since the last time I lived here. My parents bought this house when I was eight when my father was working in London in the post-production of his 'Bowling for Columbine ' documentary, just because my mother insisted on getting closer to her family here in London.

I decide to go to the kitchen and eat an apple.

"Why are you eating?" He asks me, leaning on the counter.

"You know I eat a lot, I don't want to embarrass myself in front of Rami." I mean, with a big piece of apple between my teeth. All Garrett does is roll his eyes and sigh. I go and get a little box under the sink, where I keep some money. I took that custom from my mom – we even have the same box.

"Why are you taking money? He has to pay for dinner!" The incredulity in his tone surprises me.

"Garrett, of course, he has to pay for dinner! But I'm going to take some cash and credit card because I'm a 21st-century wo-" I say to him, a little irritated.

"Okay, okay, okay." He interrupts me, raising his hands.

He lowers, disappearing behind the counter, to return with my purse in hand.