“A diet coke?” I said, hating the way my voice always added a question mark at the end of every one of my sentences. I needed to work on being more assertive. I’d been told that by my roommate, Sammy and her friend, Cara, but I had trouble following through. Sometimes it did seem like the world was a big question mark.
Ed Sanders, my boss, was still staring at me with a look of horror. I’d thought he was part of the beautification process, granting me a half day so I could go see Simone, but I guess, he wasn’t expecting the process to be so complete, to find me so completely changed.
It took several moments of him clearing his throat and sipping at his drink, which was probably whiskey, his drink of choice, before he finally managed to say, “Did Simone treat you okay?”
I smiled. Did Simone have a habit of beating her clients? Did she spank them until their hair curled?
I knew that jokes were not my stronghold, but I enjoyed my own sense of humor. I just made sure I didn’t speak my thoughts out loud. Weird looks always ensued otherwise.
The doorbell rang. The esteemed Timothy Caldwell had arrived. Christina met him at the door and walked him into the living room where we were sitting. Ed was on the leather chair that he favored. It seemed to fit with his whiskey drinking. Judy was sitting on the chair next to her husband.
Timothy took two steps into the room and halted, one foot paused in transit as if someone had turned him into an ice sculpture.
“Who is this?” he finally said, enunciating distinctly like people did when English was not their first language. He was staring at me as he asked that question, but since his question wasn’t actually addressed to me, I chose not to speak. I found the man’s rudeness inexplicable.
Judy rushed forward with introductions. I barely nodded to Mr. Caldwell, not at all sure that I wanted to make the man’s acquaintance, but he finally found his footing and sped over. He clicked his heels together like some old time German soldier, then extended a hand for me to take. It would have been impolite not to offer up mine, but still I hesitated a moment.
And then I noticed the challenge in his eyes. He was almost daring me, as if I might not be brave enough to shake his hand. Despite the odd positioning of his pose, I touched his hand with a quick movement to allow my speedy withdrawal should the handshake be rough or overly long in duration.