Page 21 of Semi Sweet
Tonight was no different. I glanced at the clock and played with my veal parmesan. In a few hours, the family driver would take me home and the next five days would be mine. I planned on binge watching anime and doing all the other things that Evan frowned upon. That, and maybe figure out who was writing me poetry better than my own and sending me cupcakes. I wasn't sure if knowing the answer to that mystery would help me or hurt me.
I all but jumped out of my skin when Evan's father put a hand on my arm. He must have been talking to me and I hadn't been paying attention. He smiled at me like he often did, like I was cute and simple and would never amount to anything without the Quittero name attached to me. I wasn't sure if Evan had poisoned his mind with his hatred of writing and the other things I liked to do. Did he think I wasn’t serious or mature enough to be his daughter-in-law? Despite the weekly discomfort that came with these dinners, I’d stopped caring about what Evan's family thought a long time ago. Maybe I'd become numb to them.
"I hope that you'll be joining us the next time we do this," Evan’s father said.
I never asked what they did on these business trips. Was there a convention where rich business owners met and discussed what made them successful? Or maybe they went to a tropical island. I figured if I knew, I'd be in that much deeper.
"I don't know why she can't get a higher position now," Grandma Benedetta said in the way that often made my skin crawl. "I was in charge of other people at her age. Graduate school." She made a noise that was dismissive and I found myself picking at what was left of my plate as I tried to think of what to say and not be rude.
"I actually chose the marketing program to help you." I tried to say as sweetly as possible. "We want to keep Cash Value Market growing, don't we?"
It was a flat out lie. Grandma Detta didn't need to know I was doing marketing so I could sell my books someday.
Evan's mother smiled at me warmly. "See, Olivia is probably more prepared than all of us."
I was reminded that Mrs. Quittero had once been like me, an outsider of the family. That didn't make me any less wary of their intentions or dismayed that they allowed their son to be so mean to me sometimes.
After tiramisu and coffee, it was nearly time for the chauffeur to bring me back to my townhouse. Grandma Benedetta had already gone up to her room and I had politely said goodnight and goodbye to everyone else. Soon it was just Evan and me on the doorstep with a black Town Car idling in the driveway.
"Don't forget about me," Evan ordered softly.
"Never," I murmured, though my thoughts were elsewhere. On cupcakes and a disco masquerade.
"Now don't slack off while I'm gone," he continued. "You have plenty of work and wedding planning to do."
And Japanese dramas to watch. And writing to do.I thought to myself, but murmured some sort of agreement instead.
He kissed my hair. " I love you."
"I love you, too."
I had a strange epiphany when I smiled up at him and returned the gesture–Evan only kissed my lips when we were being intimate. I guessed I'd been so closed off about my feelings that I hadn't realized. When had that changed? Had it been when he got his corporate job? Was it when he'd criticized my passion for writing for the first time? It was hard to remember and that made me sad.
***
I barely recognized myself as I looked in the mirror. I curled my sandy blonde hair and twisted it up into a knot. I wore jewelry that dangled and sparkled, much flashier than what I normally wore. The dress I’d picked was something Evan would have never have approved of–scandalously short, just barely covering my bottom, and a deep purple. One sleeve was cut to look like a cape, while the other side had my shoulder exposed and bare. The dress had been in my favorite boutique, which I hadn't been to in ages. I’d originally hoped to wear it somewhere with Evan, but I felt like it fit with the theme of the party. I picked out tall wedges from my closet that laced up my shins. I almost felt like I belonged at a disco. More so, I felt confident, which I knew was probably going to be regrettable. Despite the feeling that I could take on the world, I hoped most of my co-workers wouldn't recognize me even if I didn't wear a mask.
I took the train and found myself feeling jittery. What if I finally got to meet my secret admirer? What then? Would I go back to my old life or was I going to fall even harder for this man? Would it get to the point where Evan found out and my life would become even more hellish? I told myself to not do anything impulsive because last time, I ended up with no support and being dependent on Evan.
From the outside, the building looked unsuspecting. The closing shift was wrapping things up for the evening and taking care of final customers. Despite this, I heard bass pounding through a subwoofer in the distance the minute I walked in the store. I wondered what customers thought as they saw people dressed like they were from the seventies all flocking to one place. I carefully walked to the back of the store, the music growing louder and louder until I pushed through the swing doors and was greeted by the sight of what could have passed for a disco club. What was typically the receiving area of the store was decorated with shag carpet, hues of orange and green, and tons of lava lamps.
It was also packed with people. Most held cups in their hands, but a few had whole bottles of cheap champagne, tipping their heads back and drinking. Gloria Gaynor'sI Will Surviveblasted through a sound system that looked expensive while lights bounced off the walls and dance floor. Someone handed me a cheap black domino mask to cover my eyes and I felt even more like someone else as I slipped into the party–the future wife of Evan Quittero, unnoticed.
I couldn't help but join in with the celebratory yell that sounded whenStayin' Aliveby the Bee Gees began to play. A masked person came by carrying a tray of shots and I helped myself to one, enjoying the way it tickled all the way down to my stomach after I swallowed it down. A few paces away from me, a man who looked just like a guy from frozen foods gave me a thumbs-up for handling my alcohol so well. I smiled at him, and we spent a few minutes dancing around excitedly.
Another song later, I ran into Beth and Max. They'd been able to pick me out easily, and I hoped that meant everyone else wasn't watching my every move too.
"How did you know it was me?"
The pair exchanged a look like they didn't know how to respond. Finally, it was Max that offered, "Your sense of style is kind of hard to miss."
Beth nodded like she thought it was a great answer and blurted out, "You look amazing!"
"Thanks!" I looked at her huge bell bottoms and very authentic halter top. "So do you."
We went over to the bar, which had been set up by the cardboard crushing machine, and had two rounds of shots before I felt comfortable enough to admit why I was actually at the party.
"The person sending me the cupcakes–they're going to be here." In reality, they had only asked me if I was going, they hadn't confirmed if they were attending. I knew in my heart that he was here somewhere.
