06-21-2018, 10:03 AM
*** Merrik
Pushing up the thickly framed glasses on my nose, I excuse myself from the crowd following a permissive nod from Mr. Casia. Well, one of the Misters Casia. This party is full of them, but the one I step away from is the CFO, my direct supervisor and director of all things financial. My presence here is mostly a formality; as his executive assistant my job technically ends outside the doors of the firm. It hadn’t stopped him from requesting I send three faxes and take a phone call from our partners in Japan, but I remind myself that the money is good (amazing even) and that this party counts as overtime.
I’m not working the Senior Executive position that I told my parents I was, but I’m living comfortably (in a 3 bedroom apartment with 5 roommates), and almost fit into this nicely-dressed crowd with his dark blue suit (thank you thrift store). I have more in common with the wait staff than the flashy socialites and wealthy businessmen, which is why I smile happily when I find Nick distributing drinks at one of the many bars. He works in IT at the company in addition to this weekend serving gig, and we chat about the newest Star Wars movie (I loved it, he was neutral) until I hear the click of the front door closing behind me.
Turning around, I am struck speechless. It takes a well-aimed jab to my stomach by my friend to stop my staring. He whispers something rapidly to me, but not until I hear the ’you know who’s widow’ that I piece together the woman’s identity and the reason she looks so familiar. Oh of course that’s who she is, and why so stunning a creature is here alone. I didn’t know she attended parties like these, but then – I don’t usually attend them either.
She’s coming to see me!
Oh, no. she’s coming to get a drink at the bar I’m standing beside, and grabs a glass of wine from the silver platter without ever glancing at me one. For all my mother tells me I am a ‘very handsome boys; should be so popular with the ladies’, I am most certainly not. I have had a grand total of two relationships in my thirty-three years; each of them ending in a “it’s not me, it’s you” conversation.
Taking a deep breath and another swallow of the mango flavored rum, I pluck up the courage to ask:“So, what’s there to do at these parties? So far my favorite parts have been the eating and drinking, but there’s got to be something else, right?”
Merrik’s suit
Merrik
Pushing up the thickly framed glasses on my nose, I excuse myself from the crowd following a permissive nod from Mr. Casia. Well, one of the Misters Casia. This party is full of them, but the one I step away from is the CFO, my direct supervisor and director of all things financial. My presence here is mostly a formality; as his executive assistant my job technically ends outside the doors of the firm. It hadn’t stopped him from requesting I send three faxes and take a phone call from our partners in Japan, but I remind myself that the money is good (amazing even) and that this party counts as overtime.
I’m not working the Senior Executive position that I told my parents I was, but I’m living comfortably (in a 3 bedroom apartment with 5 roommates), and almost fit into this nicely-dressed crowd with his dark blue suit (thank you thrift store). I have more in common with the wait staff than the flashy socialites and wealthy businessmen, which is why I smile happily when I find Nick distributing drinks at one of the many bars. He works in IT at the company in addition to this weekend serving gig, and we chat about the newest Star Wars movie (I loved it, he was neutral) until I hear the click of the front door closing behind me.
Turning around, I am struck speechless. It takes a well-aimed jab to my stomach by my friend to stop my staring. He whispers something rapidly to me, but not until I hear the ’you know who’s widow’ that I piece together the woman’s identity and the reason she looks so familiar. Oh of course that’s who she is, and why so stunning a creature is here alone. I didn’t know she attended parties like these, but then – I don’t usually attend them either.
She’s coming to see me!
Oh, no. she’s coming to get a drink at the bar I’m standing beside, and grabs a glass of wine from the silver platter without ever glancing at me one. For all my mother tells me I am a ‘very handsome boys; should be so popular with the ladies’, I am most certainly not. I have had a grand total of two relationships in my thirty-three years; each of them ending in a “it’s not me, it’s you” conversation.
Taking a deep breath and another swallow of the mango flavored rum, I pluck up the courage to ask:“So, what’s there to do at these parties? So far my favorite parts have been the eating and drinking, but there’s got to be something else, right?”
Merrik’s suit
Merrik
