Rebecca was on her couch with a take-out salad in one hand, and fork in the other. A glass of wine, filled to the brim, was placed on a marble coaster atop her glass coffee table. The living room was dark, and the curtains were drawn.
The last week of work had been especially demanding for Rebecca, as her boss had read every written proposal she could rip from her burnt out brain, and denied every one of them. The deadline for proposals was Monday afternoon, and she still had nothing. Her plans for this weekend were now tarnished. She would have to lock herself in this apartment until she could write a proposal that would sell, even if it took her until Monday morning. This, she knew, was sure to disappoint her boyfriend.
Her phone let out a familiar bing!, and Rebecca's hands replaced her phone with her salad swiftly. It was Evan, of course it was. Rebecca felt a moment of reproach, which was quickly replaced by glee.
As a young girl, Rebecca had never been particularly too eager to cancel plans for men. Her work always came first. Growing up reading editorials and advice columns in fashion magazines filled Rebecca with a passion for journalism, and her tenacity had been the very thing that helped her thrive in that world. It was the very reason she landed her dream job at The Red Violet, a women's style magazine, in the first place. It left her with very little experience in long term relationships, and more than a little hesitant about commitment.
That was, until she met Evan. Ever since their first date, just the thought of Evan made Rebecca giddy. When her phone ring, she paused everything to answer it. When they made plans, she paused everything to make them. Except her job. That was the one thing that was off limits.
The notification read: Be ready at 7. I'll see you soon, beautiful.
Rebecca's heart sank in her chest, and she typed the reply she'd been dreading.
Can't make it :( Boss is giving me a hard time. Good luck with your proposal!
Rebecca let out a deep breath, a crease forming above her brows. Her lips pursed in frustration, and her head hung in her hands. The last thing she wanted was to push Evan away. But she didn't want to lose this job either. Performance reviews were in two weeks. If he could just hold on until then, once she knew her future at the magazine was set, Rebecca wouldn't have to spend her weekends locked behind closed doors tapping tirelessly at her keyboard until an idea stuck.
Her phone rang, signaling a phone call.
"Evan..." She said his name breathlessly into the phone, not sure where to begin but longing to give him different news.
"Rebecca," he responded. The disappointment Rebecca had expected was absent from his voice. In its place was cool amusement. "Are you sure you can't come?" he cooed, "This dinner is really important to me. You know I am proposing this big plan to my manager tonight, and hoped to have you by my side, cheering me on."
"I don't know," Rebecca bit her cheek.
"Maybe you'll find some inspiration there," He mused.
Rebecca considered this. She did not want to disappoint him. Yet, the social battery that it took to perform and be present to a room full of strangers, coworkers of her partner specifically, might run her dry for the entire weekend.
She must have been thinking this over for some good time, because Evan spoke before she could deny him again.
"Will you come out tonight? Please?" He asked. Something in his voice, his words, connected with Rebecca.
Rebecca repeated, "I will come out tonight," before she had a moment to process what she was saying.
With an untouched meal left on the table and phone in hand, Rebecca lifted herself off the couch and began to prepare for the evening. Her fingers traced the lines of coat hangers and fabric in her closet, her mind wondering what outfit would be the most presentable.
"Will you wear the red dress tonight? The one that I bought you? Please?" Evan asked.
Rebecca scrunched up her nose. She wasn't sure that dress was the most appropriate for a work event.
"The red dress... that you bought me..." she repeated slowly, as though connecting the spoken words to the memory would help her fingers find the garment among her mass of clothes.
Yes, the particularly deep shade of red was dazzling with her dark brown hair and eyes. Yet her chest was on full display, and the hemline sat precariously high on her thighs. The fabric clung to her hips, emphasizing each curve on her body. Her hands moved up and down the length of the material, loving the way it felt on her skin.
The dress adorned her body before she had time to consider any other options. It was Evan's coworkers after all. If he believed that this would be the best fit, then so be it.
"And you can skip the bra, if you want," Evan said, next.
"Skip the bra?" Rebecca repeated incredulously, "Evan, you want all eyes on you tonight, not me. They're going to love your ideas, hon. I promise."
Evan chuckled.
"I guess you're right," he said, "I guess I am just too excited about what will be waiting for me after the proposal"
Rebecca wanted to scold him, like a mother or a teacher. He should be focused more on his presentation right now than sex. That could come later, if he made care not to be so presumptuous. He was lucky she was going out tonight at all.
"Evan..." Rebecca started. He must have heard it in her voice, the lecture that she had prepared. Evan interrupted before Rebecca could finish.
