Fell in love with myself

I don't shop much; I go nowhere—

Alright! I lied; there is work, gym, outdoor running, the supermarket, and some restaurants, but those places don't really count, right?

Nope, they don't.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I smiled; there was a work party I am attending. My hair was simply styled compared to the thin, dry, breaking "thing" from before; it now shone with health, felt like silk, and was thick. I had thought of shaving it into a taper cut, but not now... Yeh, some other time. The gown was tight on the upper body and backless, made in a way that from behind it seemed as if I only wore a flowing skirt, showing off the definition of my defined slim back. Ah, those pull-ups, ah those squats; days of my limbs feeling as if they would fall off were worth every effort.

Around my neck, I wore a pearl choker and matching bracelets around each wrist against my earth-tone skin; it looked... Not bad. My lips were a bright red that matched with my hair, my nose ring a metallic red and gold, and my earrings were a pair of drop pearls to match up with the bracelets and choker. They were a gift from the husband, actually, to try to coax me back. I took them gladly and decided to wear them today. Picking up the invitation letter, I read over it once again to make sure I was dressed as fully stated.

{Dear Mrs. Satrya Bennett,

We would like to extend this invitation to our annual formal work party.

Please dress in formal wear attire and include one guest as your attending partner.}

Not interested in reading out the entire invitation letter past my name and required attire, I glanced once again in the three-dimensional mirror and smiled. I was so damn gorgeous. Ah, I even fell in love with myself for a moment; so tempting, goal complete, clothing passable, yeh.

Grabbing my purse and pulling on the wedge heels that gave my tall frame extra height, along with a small purse to hold necessary stuff; you know, hand mirror, lipstick, the invitation, car keys, house keys, and all that extra stuff. I pulled on a simple black long coat over my sea-green gown and rushed to my car.

Then drove to the work party.

Parking, I handed the keys to the valet, then took the steps to the magnificent house. No, it was a mansion with four towering columns to the front and a wrap-around patio. Nearing the double doors, it suddenly opened by a sturdy-looking male flanked on each side by two extremely large males. Fuck, were they on steroids? They looked to be more than seven feet with what had to be custom-made suits because there is no damn way the suits they wore were store-bought.

"Your invitation, please?"

Digging in my bag, I retrieved the invitation and handed it to the sturdy-looking male, who took it, scanned first the letter and then with a device once more, perhaps to see if it was the genuine thing. After a while, he returned it to me, stepping back and informing me I could enter.

"Welcome to the yearly company party, Mrs. Satrya Bennett, please enter,"

The two steroids stood aside like door guards as I passed by. I said to be as polite as possible.

'Thank you.'

Inside was gorgeously decorated with a high ceiling, and crystal chandelier. I thought of how much it was worth and decided after a while I should not even bother.

Immediately, a man dressed in a "Penguin" suit with a white inside button-down shirt, black split-tailed jacket, and pants paired with a black bow tie approached me.

He looked around late thirties with blond hair and striking silver-colored eyes. I wanted to poke out and keep for display.

"Greetings, Mrs. Bennett. Please hand your coat to this gentleman and receive the card. Thank you."

The way he greeted me as if he knew me, or to be more specific, as if he was supposed to pay special care to me or am I delusional?

I paused, and eyed him before shrugging out of my jacket and handed it to the male dressed in a white suit and blue tie, receiving the small card with a number inscribed upon it.

"When you are leaving, please hand that card in to receive your jacket," he said, looking rather serious. I rolled my eyes, nodded, and replied, "Ah, OK, thank you," as I followed the first man who guided me further in.

Inside, sculptures were strategically placed to display their full beauty. As a lover of pretty things, I had to admire the artist's work before my eyes fell on the food laid out. It was like I had died and was granted a boon heading to heaven; finger food was laid out in front of me.

Males and females garbed in red tuxedos served finger food and drinks while people mingled, talking in groups as soft, boring-ass music played in the background.

It was a miracle I was a secretary to one of the bosses at the sales company.

My job was relatively easy: scheduling meetings and handling paperwork for my boss's family while politely turning away unwanted women. My boss was a handsome male, but I refused to make the same mistake I did as that random dude from before.

I've never been to the home of the boss, thank f*ck, except now. I liked it at least so far; seems he was loaded from this size alone.

(Yuh think!)

Even though small as it was, it made money enough that my apartment was somewhat classy with two bedrooms, a rainfall shower, and a walk-in closet paired with a state-of-the-art kitchen, which in itself was a must-have... the kitchen I meant, for a glutton like me.

I baked a lot there; I cooked every day for the amount of food I prepared in it.

It was a pure surprise that it was always clean, though I liked it clean, for it was like the holy grail to me.