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“Or maybe they don’t have the money to buy a suitable outfit. Look.” I pointed to the dress code on the invite. “It’s a black-tie formal attire, and it’s a masquerade ball. Not many people can afford a designer evening gown as a costume.”
Or find one in their size. The last time I went to a formal event was during my college days. I had scrounged through the city for a whole day to find a dress in my size. The only one I found was a grayish mud color. And it fitted me in a way that made my bulging stomach the center of attention.
That horrible event was when the love of my life, Bradley, dumped me. I could still remember his voice piercing through the music in the hall when he took one look at me and said, “Fuck, Lila, when are you going to stop gaining weight? I put up with it when you gained the Freshman fifteen, but this is getting out of hand. You look like the hippo from Madagascar.” I had been too stunned to say something. Or slap him. Or kick him in the balls as he deserved. The memory of his friends’ roaring laughter sent bile burning in my throat.
“Oh puh-lease,” Simone said with an eye roll. “I know how much psychiatrists make. You can totally afford a fancy dress, even with your student loan debts.”
But did I want to spend that kind of money on an outfit I’d only wear once? Maybe. If it was a reasonable price and if it fit me well so I didn’t humiliate myself.
But why bother? I’d never look good in a ballgown, and there was no use in trying.
“And shoes and purse,” I scrambled to find plausible excuses. “Sure, I probably could afford it, but do I want to? For one night with a bunch of arrogant, over-the-top, spoiled, rich socialites who think that forking over fifty grand at a ball makes them altruistic. Most of them probably don’t give a shit about animals. All they care about is being seen at the trendiest party of the year to show off their jewels.”
“So what?” Simone said. “As long as they pay, rescues like this place could stay open and save more animals. What do you expect from people that rich? To actually come in here, roll up their sleeves, and clean shit off the floors?”
“That would be awesome! A healthy dose of honest, hard work that doesn’t make them money or fame, but for the sake of being selfless.” I pretended to be dismayed, sighing and shaking my head. “But that would never happen.”
“You boycotting this party isn’t going to do shit for your cause.”
She was right. My argument was flawed. I needed a better excuse. “It’s not my thing. I hate parties.”
Simone squinted. “Wait a minute. What’s really going on here?”
“I don’t like parties. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go alone.”
With a mischievous glint in her eye, she said, “What if Hawk is there?”
Suddenly, I wanted to go more than anything. And at the same time, I was even more resolved to not go. I’d love to run into him again…somewhere…anywhere that wasn’t the damn clinic. But what if he took one look at me in a formfitting dress and ran for the exit? “Changes nothing. I’m not going.”
“You hesitated. You want to see him again, don’t you? I see the way your eyes scan the parking lot every Saturday morning. You keep hoping he’s switched his shift again, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.” I totally was. “Is he really going to be there?”
She shrugged. “How the hell should I know? His shift is tomorrow, so he hasn’t even received the invitation yet.” She picked up another envelope with his name on it. “See, it’s right here. But I doubt it. It’s not his style. Plus, I don’t think he could afford a tux rental.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.” If he’d been going to therapy sessions with Mae three times a week, he wouldn’t need a rental because he could probably afford to buy ten tuxes. Or a whole tuxedo shop.
“Spill it, girl. What’s the real reason you don’t want to go? Tell me the truth.”
I sighed loudly, showing her my annoyance. “Okay, fine. I had a terrible experience at the last ball I went to, and it involved my ex-boyfriend, Bradley.”
“So what? We’ve all had horrible shit happen with exes. How long ago did this happen? A year ago? Two? It’s time to get over it.”
I stared at my shoes. “Umm…well… Actually, it was a bit before that?”
“Okay. So…three? Four? Oh my god, don’t tell me you’ve been single for five years?”
“Twerveee,” I mumbled.
“What? Two years? Didn’t I say that already?”
“Not two.” I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for revealing the embarrassing truth out loud. “Twelve.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Simone yelled. Karma startled in my arms and yipped.
“Sorry, Karma girl.” Simone rubbed the pooch behind an ear while staring at me with so much shock that her eyebrows nearly shot up to her hairline. “Your last relationship was twelve years ago? No way! Please tell me you’ve at least had sex in that time.”
“Yes, I’ve had sex. Plenty of it.” Except in the last few years, but she didn’t need to know that. “There are lots of guys looking for fuck friends and one-night stands. That hasn’t been hard to find.” Until now.
