“There is something missing. You have been dating since you were what, fifteen? And you weren't able to find a single woman who could put up with you? Or even worse, you couldn’t find a single woman who you could put up with? No, no, no… Danger ahead,“ I say, shaking my head.
“So, tell me about you, then.”
“There's nothing to tell,” I say with a shrug. “I have dated a few guys, and finally found someone that I really care about.”
“Oh, really? What's he like?”
Suddenly, my throat closes up. Do I tell him the truth? Do I tell him that he's the guy that he will be interviewing tomorrow morning? Or do I just let that little piece of information slide?
“What's the matter?” Franklin asks. “Cat got your tongue?”
“I met him in the Hamptons,” I say. “We spent a glorious summer together and now we're living together.”
“And what is it that he does?”
“He's sort of between things right now,” I say as casually as possible. “He’s a very talented writer, but he has been working as a teacher for a few years.”
He doesn't ask me anything more, and I don't volunteer. Tomorrow morning, he will probably make the connection between teacher and writer, but I don't want to sway him one way or another about Henry's position.
The truth is that I'm not really sure if I have any influence.
Yes, I am his employer's daughter, but my father would never make it clear to Franklin that he absolutely has to hire Henry. We would have to be married for at least a decade for that to happen.
I excuse myself and head to the bathroom, angry that the heels that I have chosen for the occasion have given me blisters on the back of my heels.
I don't know how some women can stand to wear heels every single day, but I really hate them. I think that they were invented by some terrible man who hates women and wants to make them suffer. But in truth, it's the women who subject themselves to this punishment just to look tall and hot.
I glance at myself in the tall leaning mirror in the center of the enormous bathroom. It's no longer the holiday season, but the mirror is still decorated in winter-style garland celebrating the season.
I don't want to admit it, but the heels do make me look magnificent. I'm not very tall, only five foot four, but with these heels, my legs look long and flamingo like. They accentuate my hips and minimize my waist and even, somehow, prop up my breasts. If only Henry could see me like this, I say to myself, immediately regretting that it is not him who is my date for tonight.
I hate lying to him. I don't want to, and it always makes me feel like a total shit, and yet I find myself doing it more and more. I lied to him about working at the library. I lied to him about taking money from my mom. And now I'm lying to him about attending this gala.
The truth is that these are all things that I could explain to him, but they aren’t things he would understand.
A part of him knows that the only reason why he has an interview with Franklin Parks tomorrow about the research writing position at Tate Media is that my father owns the company.
He knows that, but if he knew that in return for that favor, I am on a date with Franklin himself, as a favor to my mother, steam would come out of his ears.
And I don't want him to feel like he isn't good enough.
He is.
The problem is that the game is fixed. My father and mother took a lot of shortcuts as opportunities presented themselves to them, and that's why they are where they are.
That's just how the world works. You have to take whatever advantage is presented to you, because it's an uphill battle no matter what.
But for some reason, Henry doesn't understand that. He thinks that there is a noble way to get what he wants. I'm not saying that you have to lie and cheat and be a terrible person and that the only way you can become successful is to be a vile human being, because that's not true. But you do have to grab every opportunity.
This meeting with Franklin Parks is not a date, even though it seems like it is. It's a meet and greet.
It's an opportunity for me to talk to a few people that my parents are friends with and to show up here as the face of Tate Media. Given that Franklin will be heading a large new division within the company, my mother wants me here to get to know him better, in a more casual environment.
What will I report back? Nothing particularly encouraging. I don't know how he is as an employee and a boss, but so far, he has not made the best first impression.
But that's good to know. It's good to be informed.
I'm saying all these things because I'm trying to think of a possible explanation of what I'm doing here, something that I will have to explain to Henry later on tonight.
I'm tired of lying to him, but that doesn't mean that I'm willing to allow him to get less than what he deserves just because of his pride. Henry is a very good writer and since that is what he wants to do for a living, I will do everything in my power to help him reach his goals.
“Well, hello there.” Franklin comes up to me at the dessert table.
We are at the back of a banquet hall, and this isn't the usual gathering place. It’s dark and quiet here and there are a lot of beautiful pastries and cakes to look at, so that's where I had escaped after using the bathroom.
“I thought that maybe I would find you here,” he says, winking at me. He leans against the wall but only slightly and looks me up and down in that way that men do when they are assessing you.
It was sexy when Henry did it, but with Franklin, it’s creepy. I take a step away from him.
“No, honey, don't be scared, I didn't mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t," I lie, trying to appear to be strong.
"So, what are you doing all the way over here, hiding in the shadows?”
“I guess you answered your own question,” I say, crossing my arms.
“You know, you're not very nice, has anyone ever told you that?”
I stare at him but say nothing.
I hate how he expects me to be nice just because he is paying attention to me.
I was polite enough, but when he is pressing me and pressuring me, I don't have to be polite.
Still, I say nothing.
“So, how's your evening going so far?” Franklin asks, taking a step closer to me.
I take a step back, and then hit the wall with my back.
“Fine, I guess.” “You know, you never answered my question.”
“Which was?”
“How come you are here with me instead of a real date?” I ask.
“Well, your parents have asked me to do them a favor.”
What is he talking about?
He takes another step closer to me. I can feel his breath on me and it makes me wanna squirm.
"Do you mind?” I ask, sliding along the wall to try to get away from him.
He grabs my arm and pulls me closer to him. Then he presses his lips onto mine, hard.
“What are you doing?” I ask, pushing him away from me. “I told you that I wasn't interested.”
“Oh, you were serious?"
“Yes, of course I was serious.”
“Ha,” he says in disbelief. “I thought that you were just joking.”
I shake my head, not believing what is actually happening.