“No one wants to do that.”
“We have fifty-plus employees who signed up beforehand.”
“Jesus,” he grumbled and slid his hand over his face. “You went overboard, woman.”
“Not possible.”
“Completely possible. Look at your outfit, Pix. It’s a damn plant corset wrapped up in sparkle and glitter. Did you dye your hair?”
I threaded my fingers through the tips of blonde that I’d paintbrush-dyed pink and shrugged. “I figured if I lost and had to wear black, at least my hair would pop.”
“Jesus. No one went to the lengths you did for a damn costume. Can’t we just say you won?”
That was all the compliment I needed from him. I pushed off the wall and spun slowly. I knew my corset shimmered and the leaves over my ass and boobs swayed as I rocked my hips to the music. “I’m freaking happy and proud of my Tinker Bell, Jett.”
“And half the room is damn happy you wore it too.”
I winked at him. “Which half?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know it's the male half. It’s completely inappropriate for work.”
“Exactly!” I exclaimed and clapped my hands. “This isn’t work! That’s the point.”
“You should have kept my jacket on.”
“You’re kidding, right? Do you honestly care that much who’s looking?”
“More than I want to, Pix. A lot more than I want to.”
I licked my lips and quivered with his admission. “I’m not too happy about the way your date looks at you either.”
“Ah, at least I get one honest response from you tonight.”
“I’m always honest.”
“You’re alwayshappy,Victory. Even when you’re not. You never let the raw side of you breathe and it's suffocating in there.” He sighed and pulled at one of my pink strands. “Let’s get this voting going, shall we?”
His words twisted my insides. My throat constricted, my chest tightened, my mind short circuited. Feelings, ominous and wretched, curdled in me. Fears I worked so hard to suppress clawed at the walls I’d built around them.
Would all this be good enough? Would I be happy with my life if I took a turn for the worse the very next day?
I swallowed the questions down and buried them deep where they belonged. If I was suffocating the raw part of me, I hoped I would snuff it out completely.
I went through the motions of emceeing the costume contest, and Jett sat there smiling as person after person showed off their attire.
My mind was on his words though. Had I adopted a positive attitude to the point of my own detriment? Was I losing my grip on reality by denying what I truly felt?
I yelled into the microphone, “I think that’s everyone. Let me go talk to the Phantom.”
Brey in her Catwoman suit sidled up to take the microphone. “Oh, no. Ms. Blakely, you will do your walk in your outfit. You do not get to opt out just because you emceed.”
“Girl,”—I whispered—“this isn’t for me.”
She covered the mic. “I know. It’s for Stonewood Enterprises. Look at them. They want to see you, Vick.”
My fellow employees erupted as I walked over to the runway they’d outlined with their bodies in front of Jett. He sat there, subdued and smiling.
Brey cut to a favorite song of mine. I twirled and swayed to the deep beat of the bass. I rolled my hips a little and got a few hoots and hollers from the crowd. Jett’s eyes burned into me, goading me to end my walk as quickly as possible. Instead, I backed up and dropped low to the floor, running my hands down my body and back up to my glittering wings. I waved a pretend wand, and just as the tempo picked up, random employees threw green glitter into the air above me. Brey held out a bag of it, letting people grab more.