“So… people treat you differently because of your success,” she said.
“The richer I got, the more it changed. But yes, I’m treated differently and held to a different set of expectations when I’m around people. Especially women. But that wasn’t the case at the wedding and I figured if I was never going to see you after it then what was the point in spoiling it?”
“I guess we went about this ‘one night thing’ all wrong, huh?”
“I’d say we’re shit at it, yes. But, since we’ve established that we’re terrible at it, could I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Would you like to accompany me to dinner Saturday evening?”
“As in… tomorrow Saturday?” she asked.
“Yes. I could pick you up around seven? Or we could meet somewhere, if that makes you more comfortable?”
“Meeting somewhere sounds fine. And I would love to, Graham.”
“Perfect. How does Boka sound? Around seven tomorrow night?” I asked.
“Sounds like I’ll see you there.”
“Wonderful. I hate to cut the conversation short, but I’ve got a very boring board of investors meeting ahead of me in ten minutes.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” she said.
“Trust me, I’d rather you keep me than them. Their bodies aren’t as soft as yours.”
“If you keep saying those kinds of things, my cheeks are going to hurt so badly they’ll fall off.”
“Then I’m doing my job right. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow evening.”
“See you then, Graham.”
Nine
Libby
I was nervous for my date with Graham. Though Boka might not be a fancy restaurant to him, it was to me. It was a place I had passed on a few occasions and outside of it looked modern and new. The stories I’d heard of their food and decor were nothing short of wonderful, but it was one of the many places in Chicago I knew would never happen for me. There was a lot I accepted about my life. I accepted the loneliness and I accepted the fact that I would never be able to indulge in a lot of the finer things. And I accepted that. Material possessions never did anything for me anyway. But the fact that someone wanted to take me to a place like that meant I needed a different outfit. I had nothing in my closet that was appropriate for a place like this, and it made me nervous.
What did I wear to a place like this?
I took the money I could spare for another outfit and went shopping. I looked at a lot of cocktail dresses, but most of them were too tight and the rest were too short. I wasn’t going out to a club. I was going out to dinner. Each one I tried on was wrong in some way. The waist was too tight or there wasn’t enough room for my chest. It was too short or the sleeves weren’t big enough to fit the upper part of my arms. It was discouraging, to say the least. I sat in more dressing rooms and cried than I ever had in my entire life.
I had no idea what I was going to do.
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
“Yes?” I asked, sniffling.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, no. I’m okay. I’m just about to finish up,” I said.
“I know it might not be my place, but… there’s a shop across town that specializes in some clothes you might enjoy.”
That was code for ‘the store sold fat person clothes’.
“Thanks,” I said. “But I think I’m done for the day.”