The Difference Between Getting and Needing

f o r t y - s e v e n

"Would you invite her to yours?" I asked then to change up the scenario.

"Considering I don't know when that'll be..." she grumbled, making me roll my eyes. Her distrust in Jeremiah wanting to marry her was so infuriating. After mulling over it, she concluded with a firm nod, "Yes, I would. If anything, she'll be flattered that you invited her and are showing that you'd want her there. She might not even say yes, but I think it's worth a shot for you to ask."

I flattened my lips and I knew she was right. "True. I guess I'd rather her say no than not say anything at all."

"Exactly. Let her decide what she wants to do and go from there. It can't hurt."

"Okay."

I said it, but I didn't make a move. My ass was glued to my rolling chair as if this conversation didn't just happen. The seconds ticked by until it was time for us to clock out and head home.

At my reluctance, Nadia muttered something to herself with a shake of her head, then she popped up from her seat and charged towards me. Before I could argue, her dainty hands snatched the phone off its receiver on my desk, pressed 1, and waited for a moment while it rang.

"Donatella, do you have a moment to chat?" She crooned into the mouthpiece in an attempt at mimicking my customer service voice.

"I hate you," I hissed.

She waved off my complaint as she listened closely to our boss's response, and a smile spread across her face. "Thanks! I'll be in shortly."

"Wow," I said in awe after she hung up the phone. "You do sound just like me."

"You're welcome," she spat. As she rounded my desk, I barely had enough time to register what was happening. With every ounce of strength she had, she plucked me out of my chair and dragged me over to the frosted glass doors that led to Donatella. "Go. Now. Do it," she barked, shoving me so hard that I stumbled over my own feet.

I sent her a death glare over my shoulder. She just shooed me away.

"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow," I huffed.

"Good luck!" She chirped with a promising grin.

I let myself have one last deep breath, then squared my shoulders and pushed on the swirly bronze door handles. While I made the trek to Donatella's office, the only sound to be heard was the soles of my sneakers padding against the floor. The quiet narrow hallway was at its usual arctic temperature, as uninviting as always.

Her office itself wasn't much better. I never understood how she didn't freeze her ass off every day, but I guessed she had enough espresso running through her veins to keep her warm.

When I stepped into her carpeted sanctum, Donatella was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the late afternoon sun soaking the room in light and making it feel a little warmer than it actually was. Her back was to me as she gazed at the hectic city below us like a queen watching over her kingdom.

All of the variously sized mannequins and dress forms lined up along the windows were naked. She still hadn't turned around at my presence and the longer I stood there, the more I assumed I interrupted something important. Whether she was on the brink of a new design or simply having some "me time", I didn't want to butt in on any of it.

The debate I was having inside my head about slowly backing up to make a silent exit came to an end when Donatella twirled around to face me. Her pin straight hair parted precisely in the middle spilled down her back like a jet black veil, making her resemble a young Cher. She had the closet and lack of wrinkles to pull it off, too.