*Shoes and jewelry*

Once I stepped out of the bathroom, Tiffany already had everything out of the boxes and laid out in the room.

I first put the dress on, bra less, because I only had a sports bra and Tiffany's bras would not fit me.

I didn't have any underwear so I put on the underwear I washed in the shower. It was still somewhat damp, even after I tried to dry them with a towel. They were semi uncomfortable, but it was either wear them or wear nothing.

Tiffany then sat me down and started working on my hair. It was fairly quick and simple.

She took some of my hair and braided it into two braids. She didn't braid it all the way, so she tied together the ends to the back of my head and put a small gold hair clip to cover the hair tie.

We decided against makeup, mostly because Tiffany didn't have anything that would fit my complexion, but I rarely wore makeup anyway.

I decided against the jewelry, too. I never wore much jewelry, aside from the ring my grandmother gave me. My mother had to force me to wear earrings to formal outings, which were always a headache, but when I noticed she only wore earrings to formal events, too, I stopped giving her a hard time.

Tiffany pouted, sad that none of the pieces would be worn, but she packed all of them back in their boxes while I walked to the bathroom.

I stared at myself in the mirror, a small frown etching its way on my face.

I have to admit, I do look good, but the dress, the shoes, the jewelry, it feels too much like I'm dressing up for him. To please him. It felt disgusting. This whole idea of dinner with him was revolting. I doubt I'll even be able to keep a bite down. Just thinking about him makes my appetite waiver.

Tiffany stepped into the bathroom, with her hands behind her back making it too obvious that she was hiding something. She smiled as she gazed at me through the mirror.

"You look beautiful, Naomi."

"Thank you, Tiffany. You did wonders with my hair."

She blushed and shrugged bashfully. "Thanks, don't mention it."

We stayed silent for a few seconds before Tiffany sighed.

"You know, you should wear at least one piece of jewelry. He'd be mad if you didn't."

I desperately wanted to say that I didn't care about what he wanted or what he would do, but me being in this dress, minutes away from having dinner with him would've instantly proved my point wrong.

I had already gone so far, what was one more thing?

"Fine. I'll wear the necklace." Admittedly, it was the best thing there.

Tiffany smile broadened and she pulled her hands in front of her. The necklace was hanging from her fingers.

"I knew you'd say that. It was the best piece there."

I chuckled softly and lifted my hair up. Tiffany carefully clasped the necklace around my neck, admiring the jewelry in the mirror once again.

The necklace felt cold against my skin. It was a little uncomfortable, something I'd have to get used to. My thumb grazed the rock at center of the necklace.

The vibrant green shined and twinkled in my hand. It was beautiful and left me almost speechless. It was so eye catching I wondered if it was a real gem and not some polished knock off.

Once we were both done gazing at the necklace, we walked out the bathroom to the door. I put my hand on the handle to walk out, but Tiffany stopped me.

I turned and in her hand she held up the black pumps. "Final touch."

Right. How could I forget?

I grabbed each shoe, wanting to put them on quickly so we could get out of here. I wasn't even slightly excited or eager for this dinner, but the longer I stayed here the more nervous I would get.

I struggled a little to put the shoes on while balancing against the door.

If I had sat down I was sure this would've been so much easier.

After a few tries, I succeeded and smoothed down some of the dress that got crinkled in the process.

"Ready?" I asked. If I didn't leave soon, my fear would get the best of me.

Tiffany thought for a second, slowly looking me up and down, her eyes looking for any fixable imperfections, but she shook her head. "No, you're ready, let's go."

I sighed and opened the door.

•~•

With each step down the stairs, the coil in my stomach tightened. I was scared, no doubt about that, but it was bigger than that. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, I had no idea what to expect. Back at home, if anything came in my way I knew I could handle it, I had the skills to resolve any major work or family related issue. But here, I was powerless, with no plan of action and no way to save myself if shit turned sour.

I was vulnerable and it was absolutely petrifying.

Tiffany walked ahead of me, making sure I didn't fall forward as I walked down the stairs. My eyes were cast on the floor the whole time we walked down so I didn't trip and crack my skull open. But when I heard the elevator *ding*, my eyes shot up to look to see who was coming in.

The only thing I saw was Tiffany standing by the elevator smiling up at me. It wasn't her usual happy no matter what smile; she seemed more nervous and looked like she was smiling through it.

"Where are you going?" I asked walking down the stairs much faster than I did moments ago.

"Well I wasn't invited to the dinner so -"she chuckled awkwardly "- this is where I leave."

My heart sunk the tiniest bit. "You're leaving?"

It was silly of me to think she would stay through the whole thing, but it would bring me comfort to know she was at least in the same house as me.

Tiffany saw the worry on my face. "Hey, it'll be ok. He's not scary, just a little intimidating. The dinner will be in the living room, alright? And I'm sure he won't do anything to you, you'll be fine. I'll see you in the morning."

I smiled at her trying to comfort me, but threw all of the words she said out the window. It barely helped. The only thing that did help was that she said she'll be here tomorrow. At least someone will find my dead corpse before it starts rotting away on the floor for ages.

The elevator door opened and Tiffany stepped in. As the door was closing we waved goodbye, but when the door closed shut, the sense of dread quickly sank in. For a second I even contemplated running up the stairs and going back to the room.

But that would only make my problem worse. I'm sure he'd walk up there and drag me out of the room. Or in another sick twist of irony he'd starve me for days until I begged to have dinner with him. The possibilities of torture were enough to make me walk away from the stairs and towards the kitchen.

I took slow calculating steps, hoping to prolong the inevitable as much as I could. At the fork in the room, right going to the living room and left going to the kitchen, I took a deep breath and turned to the left.

And that's when I saw him, in an expensive suit, next to a small table, two chairs and a smile on his face.

"Ah, you made it."

•~•

Thanks for reading,

NN😊