Page 18 of Boyfriend Maintenance

“Emmy,Jake’s going to be here in like twenty minutes, and you have yet to come out here. I need to check you out, darling.” Becca knocks on my door and has been pestering me all evening since I started getting ready. She’s seen my dress, but she wasn’t with me when I bought it months ago.

“I’m almost done. Hold your horses.” I finish applying my nude lip gloss. I like to keep my makeup simple. I opted for a smoky brown on my eyelids to make my deep brown eyes pop. In addition to my gloss, my makeup isn’t noticeable, and I prefer it that way. Opening my bedroom door, I’m face-to-face with Becca.

She whistles. “Holy shiitake mushrooms, Em. You look fucking sexy as hell.”

I turn around so she can get a look at the back, which is my favorite part of the dress.

“Oh my god. I’m dead,” she exclaims. I laugh.

I’m wearing a Kelly green dress that hangs just past my knees. The green beading that winds randomly over the front of the bodice, continues through the lace back that cuts into a deep v, which dips down to the waist of the dress where the skirt starts. Wearing a bra with this dress is pretty much impossible, so I've got my breasts taped into the bodice. Thankfully, the dress isn't cut low in the front. I won't have to live in fear of one of the girls popping out.

The dress is simple elegance, it really has a vintage look to it. I got it for a steal for less than two hundred. It's more than what I normally like paying for an outfit, but when I saw it in the store, I knew it was one of a kind. And bonus, it was in my size. It was fate that this dress and I became one. I wear my hair up in a fancy chignon, to show off the epic backing. The green lace with beading really is to die for.

“I know, I about died when I saw it in the store,” I tell her, and then walk over to the couch to start shoving my essentials into a small clutch.

“Jake will be fighting a woody all night for sure.”

I turn around and glare at her. “This isn’t for Jake, and I doubt it.”

“Right.” She draws out the word as she walks over and sits down on the couch.

“Don’t give me that. If I’m going to face my family, I want to look as confident as I feel. This dress does it for me.”

“So, you’re not nervous for tonight?” She bites her lip, studying me.

“Hell yes, I’m nervous. One can be confident and nervous at the same time, for sure.”

“What are you most worried about? Your family, dealing with Cringey Craig, or that everyone will see through your relationship”—she air-quotes that last word—“with Jake?”

I want to tell her all of it plus the tiny bit about being with Jake again. I haven’t seen him since our shopping trip and lunch. I have not mentioned what almost happened between us in the dressing room to Becca. She’d have too much of a field day with that.

I’m not necessarily worried about being with him, more like I’m worried this new tension between us in the Bloomingdale’s will grow, and while I’m not completely against it, I haven’t completely been truthful with him regarding my situation. Not to mention his rule of not sleeping with residents. I’m not moving anytime soon, and he loves his job here.

I settle on, “All the above.”

“Well, Craig will take one look at you and Jake and back off. Jake’s got at least fifty pounds on that scrawny ass. As for your parents, just keep your interactions with them to a minimum. That way they can’t start questioning you about your relationship.”

She makes valid points.

“I guess I’m worried about them being rude to him. I know I told him he didn’t have to pretend to be anyone else, but I don’t want to give them ammunition to make him feel bad about himself.”

“Do you care that he’s a maintenance man?”

“Of course not!” I’m a little offended by her question. “I couldn't care less about what he does. He could be a trash man for all I care.” Granted, if he were a high-powered businessman, we probably would have not been in the same place at the same time and this little arrangement wouldn’t be happening.

She gives me this knowing smirk and raises her hands in submission. “Fair enough, just asking.”

Just then, there is a knock on the door. Which means it must be Jake.

I move to the door and open it. While I saw all the outfits, we bought the other day, seeing him now, ready for our pseudo-date takes my breath away. Standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, he's swoon worthy. He’s wearing a deep navy-blue suit jacket with matching trousers. He decided against the tie, making the white button-up even more pronounced. His walnut leather belt ended up matching the pair of brown Oxfords perfectly.

“Wow, Emmy, you look fantastic.” He clears his throat.

“Not so bad yourself, Jake. This outfit is simply … you.” I smile, and it’s the truth. While I like the normally rugged look of Jake Harper, this dressed-up version is just as spectacular.

“Thank you. I had an excellent stylist.” His smile is warm, and it seems like we could actually pass as friends, so making people believe we are more should be easy.

“Well, don’t you two just look stunning together. Cringey Craig isn’t going to know what hit him. Em, you never looked this good on his arm. Mostly because he looked like a twat ninety-five percent of the time.”

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