Page 18 of Little Gray Dress

“It’s cause you’re cute.” He winks before patting me on the behind and heading towards the front door. It’s not like my job is nearly as important as his job as a lawyer. Not that he’ll ever admit that. He says he went into law because his dad was in the business and he always wanted to be like his father. But I don’t think that’s really it. Jack is the second top lawyer at his firm and he works so hard for people he barely knows. I’m proud of him and I know he’s proud of himself. “I’ll see ya tonight.”

When I get to work, my boss Aron Mayfair is waiting for me at my desk. “Emi, I have an idea that I wanted to run past you.”

“OK, shoot.” I click on my computer and sit at my desk that he’s leaning against.

“Have you seen those commercials from businesses in town wishing their clients a Merry Christmas?”

“I have.”

“Can we turn this Christmas party into one of those? We’ve got just over 3 weeks until Christmas so you should have time to get everything lined up. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea, Aron. I’ll get started on everything right now and arrange for our film crew to be there tonight. Leave it to me and it’ll be great.”

“One thing, though…” He stands away from my desk. “I want Greta to be the host of the show. Maybe she could walk around and ask questions to our employees.”

“I’m not sure what kind of show it will be?” I ask, thinking he was talking two-minute commercial here. “Really the ad can’t be more than a couple of minutes.”

“I know, I know, but Greta gets so much attention everywhere she goes and she wants to become the face of the company. I’m thinking what better way to start than with a Christmas and New Year ad?”

“OK, maybe we can have her ask clients about their New Year’s resolutions and just do a Happy Holidays ad as opposed to a specific Christmas ad?”

“Perfect! I’ll let her know. What time should she be there tonight to get started?”

Shoot. I didn’t want to come to this party at all, and now I have to work it. So much for arriving with Jack, I guess we’ll just meet up there. “Um… Maybe have her meet me at five, that will give us an hour to work through her performance and get ready.” When I say ‘performance’, I mean that as loosely as possible. A holiday commercial is hardly much of a performance, or ‘show’, as Aron keeps calling it.

“I knew I could count on you, Em. You’re a star!”

“You know who Greta Mayfair is, right?” Morgan, my camera guy, flips open a magazine he brought with him. A tall, thin, half-naked, blonde woman stares back at me.

“Whoa.” I stare down at the picture even though I suddenly feel a little dirty. This girl has no shame and apparently not a lot of morals from the looks of it.

“That’s just the pic I felt comfortable showing you. She’s done full-out nude.”

“So, then, why come work for her dad’s furniture store, if she’s basically a playboy bunny?”

“They fired her. I guess she’s a real bitch. No one wants to work with her anymore so her daddy is saving her.”

“How do you know so much about this?” I ask Morgan, who’s busy setting up his camera and technical supplies.

“You saw that picture. Every man knows about her.”

“Gross. Well let’s just make sure she’s wearing clothes and everything should go fine.”

“I hope so.” Morgan nods towards the doorway.

She looks exactly like her picture. She’s got to be almost six feet tall, probably something like a size double-zero, her long blonde hair is perfectly curled with not a strand out of place and her skin would make a porcelain doll jealous. I’d say she’d be perfect as the face of the company if it wasn’t for the Jessica Rabbit dress she’s wearing, with cleavage falling out of the top and a slit cut up to her hip on the right side.

“Are you Esmeralda?”

“No…” I reach out and shake her outstretched hand. “I mean yes, but I don’t go by Esmeralda, you can call me Emi.”

“Emi, great. So, what kind of show are we going for here? So I know what kind of character I’m playing.” She flips her hair behind her shoulder and then puts her hands on her hips.

“Character?” I ask, a tad confused. “It’s not really a show per se; but more of a two-minute commercial slot. We’re going to have you work the room and ask people about their New Year’s resolutions before getting a group shot of everyone shouting Happy Holidays.”

“So…” She rolls her eyes as if it’s part of her profession. “You’re telling me that I’m doing a commercial?”

“Yes?” I ask it as a question, unsure of what her father told her, and glance back at Morgan whose eyes are as wide as saucers. His stare bores through her barely-there dress, as if he is trying to use X-ray vision. Besides what he just showed me in the magazine, I’m not sure there is a lot more to see.

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