Before I entered the fancy ballroom for our fancy party, I took a quick sec to make sure there was no lipstick on my teeth. And, glancing around to make sure no one would see, I also re-adjusted the girls to make sure I had a little—but not too much—cleavage showing. Attractive, but not too attractive. That seemed to be the way it worked at a law firm.
I entered the party with a big smile on my face, as if I did things like this all the time. Like I was some sort of movie star whom people would be thrilled to see walk through the door. Camera-ready, as they say.
But in reality, all that happened were a few heads turned my way, and then turned right back to the other heads they were clustered with.
Fuckers.
I didn’t let that deter me. I might be a mid-level paralegal who’d only attended a crummy state college, but I was going to be somebody people respected. And admired. And wanted to party with.
I made my way toward the bar, always the safe first stop at any party, while my eyes scanned the crowd for my buddy Cato. We’d agreed to meet there and help each other suffer through any indignities. I ordered a gin and tonic—a work party seemed a bit too formal for a beer—and walked over to the group Cato was chatting with.
They were all drinking beer.
Anyway, when I got close enough, I inched my way into the circle, lightly rubbing my arm against Cato to let him know I was there and to make room for me.
“Maizy!” he exclaimed like he’d never been so glad to see someone. Cato was great that way, always knowing just how to make someone feel special.
“Hi, everyone,” I said, continuing to beam my bright smile. “What a party!” I looked around the room in awe. What an actress.
“Does everyone know Maizy?” Cato asked. “She’s one of our top paralegals. We’re very lucky to have her.” Shit. I’d have to buy him lunch for that.
“Oh, Cato, that’s so nice of you,” I gushed.
The others in the group nodded at me, murmuring a few hellos, before they turned back to their lawyer talk. There were a couple glances at my cleavage, though.
Ugh. Was I showing too much?
Oh, no. My boss was heading right for me.
“Maizy,” she said, touching my arm. As if she liked me. Which I was pretty sure she didn’t.
“Eva! Wow, I love your dress.” It was a nice dress. Probably cost a thousand dollars, unlike mine, which came from the sale rack at Ann Taylor.
“Let’s walk, shall we?” she asked, leading me away from the safety blanket that was Cato. Did she really want to hang out with me? Maybe she had something important to talk about and realized what an excellent confidante I would be.
I was finally getting the recognition I deserved.
As Eva steered me through the crowd, she occasionally nodded and shook the hand of another guest. She didn’t bother to introduce me, which I would have found insulting if I hadn’t believed she and I were about to have a real, personal conversation.
When we were far enough from the other partygoers that no one could hear us, she looked at me with that cat smile, the one where I never knew if she was going to compliment my work or tear it to shreds. It was quite a skill to keep someone on the brink of a panic attack. I wondered where she’d become so practiced.
“Maizy, you look so pretty tonight. All that…eyeshadow. It’s so…glittery.”
“Oh, thanks, Eva, my sister helped me—”
“Right,” she interrupted before I could tell her about Sparkle’s awesome makeup skills. “Maizy, have you noticed some of the partners’ wives here tonight have not been exactly…um, friendly?”
Of course I had. Did she think I was freaking blind? But the old bitches were always like that.
“Oh, well yeah. But they’re never friendly to me. It’s the funniest thing,” I babbled.
“Maizy, did it occur to you to wonder why these women are not friendly to you? And why, at an event like this, the men aren’t that friendly to you either?”
I finally realized she’d not pulled me aside for a friendly conversation, but something more sinister. I waited for her to sink her fangs into me and to inject just enough venom to leave me doubting myself for the next decade of my life.
Because I knew it was coming.
“I’m sharing this with you because your review is coming up, and I know you’re hoping for that promotion to senior paralegal.”
Oh, god. What was she getting at?
“Um, right,” I said, forcing some steadiness into my voice.
“Maizy,” she said, looking around again to make sure no one could hear us, “it’s because you’re single that people aren’t friendly to you.”
“Huh?” I wasn’t usually that inarticulate with my boss, but at that moment, the words were just not coming.
“You see, you’re young and beautiful, and dare I say, sexy? The wives don’t particularly like their husbands around someone like you. And the men feel like they have to steer clear.”
I swallowed hard, a sip of my gin and tonic having done nothing to help the strangled sensation in my throat.
“If you really want to move up in the firm…”
She waited, it seemed to make sure I was listening carefully, so I nodded like a bobble-head.
“You need to have a husband.”
Wha…?
Did she really say what I thought she did?
“Or, at least a fiancé,” she added quickly. “You see, at a conservative firm like ours, young women like…you…are a threat to some people. And unfortunately, those are the people who carry a lot of weight.”
“S…so I…um…would have a more successful career if I had a boyfriend?”
She pursed her lips while she looked at me, which I didn’t know was possible with all the Botox it was rumored she got. “Not just a boyfriend, Maizy. A fiancé or even better, a husband.”
She waved across the room at some woman and put her hand back on my arm.
“I’m so glad we got to have this talk, Maizy. Please do think about what I said.” And she was off, floating across the room to talk to someone undoubtedly more important than me.
And who probably had a fiancé. Or even a husband.
