On Friday night, Brady’s team at work had a holiday dinner/get together. He didn’t tell me until 2:00pm that he was going and that I was invited.
Andrea had planned it and Brady said he’d stop by at home quickly to change and then we’d go. Obviously I didn’t have much going on at work so I met him at home so I could change (black turtleneck, skirt, tights, booties and a wool cabby hat) also.
Brady got home and I danced around and bothered him while he got undressed to change.
“You look amazing,” he said, grabbing my ass under my skirt.
I let him grope me for a few minutes before I grabbed him hands to stop him.
“Enough of that. Let’s get going.”
Brady looked disappointed. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Later.”
He seemed satisfied with that answer and finished getting dressed. We took an Uber to a dimly lit dive bar and restaurant with wood paneling and shabby Christmas lights and wreaths everywhere. It reminded me of my friend from grade school’s basement at her house, the one we used to avoid going in because it was super creepy.
Andrea was already there, wearing reindeer ears, and her face lit up when she saw us (Brady).
“Hi, you guys!” she squealed and shoved her hand toward me. “You must be Reese! I’ve heard so much about you!”
I liked her teeth. They were straight, but kind of fanned out and weren’t all uniform in size.
“You too, Andrea. So nice to finally meet you,” I said politely.
We joined the rest of the team and their significant others – about a dozen people or so total.
I sat in a seat right next to Andrea and she said, “Brady says you are an interior decorator.”
I looked back and forth between them blankly. “Hmm, not at all. I work for an interior design firm, but hardly ever do any designing. I work on the business side. But close though.” I smiled at Brady.
“Yeah, I was telling her what an amazing job you’ve done with our apartment,” he clarified.
“Anyway,” I said, deflecting. “What’s your story, Andrea? Where are you from, where did you go to school, et cetera.”
She started telling me and I zoned out, but somehow asked relevant follow-up questions and asked her to elaborate. It’s so mean how I do that, but I literally can’t help it. She was sweet enough though and I guess I’m happy Brady has a friend at work. Somehow Andrea just isn’t as annoying as Sydney and I can’t exactly figure out why.
Brady wasn’t feeling well so we left after only two drinks and a small appetizer. I was actually pretty tired myself and while Brady’s coworkers were nice, they were incredibly boring. And we were the only group in the bar which is odd for a Friday night. It was time to go home.
Brady still didn’t feel well on Saturday. He becomes such a baby when he’s sick and he didn’t want to leave the house all day. I went to the grocery store in the morning, made us lunch and then we watched movies all day on the couch. By the time the evening rolled around, I had cabin fever and quite literally jumped in the shower when Lola texted me asking to hang out.
“Where are you going?” Brady asked, looking like a little boy wrapped up in blankets on the couch.
“Just out for a couple hours with Lola. I won’t be out long!” I said. I’d put on jeans, an oversized sweater and booties.
He looked disappointed, but said okay and went back to the Tom Cruise movie he was watching. We had probably watched three movies featuring Tom Cruise that day and that is beyond enough Tommy for one day.
I met Lola at a little tiki themed bar in a hotel. The place was packed and the guy at the door attempted to give me a hard time getting in. I rolled my eyes and said, “It’s fine. I’m gonna call my friend who is inside so we can go elsewhere.”
The guy smiled and said, “Listen, I’ll let you in even though I shouldn’t. Don’t get into any trouble.”
I can’t stand a place that has a pretentious bouncer and if the place hadn’t been completely packed with beautiful, well dressed people, I would have grabbed Lola and went somewhere else.
We ordered two viciously strong drinks in skull mugs and tucked ourselves into a corner to catch up. Within an hour, we had attracted two bros and despite our short answers and apathetic faces, they wouldn’t go away. Lola is even more of a bitch than me.
Eventually she said, “Okay well, we’re leaving.” And she marched over to the bar and ordered another drink.
I was telling her about Brady’s family and Christmas and what a mess it was all destined to be.
“Can you please Instagram live Christmas dinner?” she said.
“I know. Like I can’t imagine what we are all going to talk about,” I said back.
“I feel like Jimmy Kimmel needs to host dinner and be a buffer.”
And then I told her what my mom said about Brady proposing.
Her eyes got big. “Do you really think he is going to?”
“I mean no, but still. What if he does?”
Lola shuttered. “I don’t believe in marriage, but more power to you both.”
“No way. I would never! Can you imagine getting married to someone and giving him your whole life and then the asshole cheats on you or gets another woman pregnant? I’d have to kill him,” she said.
Lola has even more trust issues than I do and is convinced that all men cheat. But somehow she still has a boyfriend who she completely neglects. I thought about when Brady told me he doesn’t want to get married. Maybe he has the same mindset as Lola!
Anyway, by 3, we were at our third bar and completely trashed. Lola was shaking her ass on some guy to EDM music, occasionally dropping down low while hanging onto his jeans so she didn’t fall. There was a small crowd forming.
She leaned over to me. “Should we leave?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
We left abruptly, not saying goodbye to any of our friends/fans. I suggested we stop for pizza at a 24 hour place next door. There was a tall guy with big shoulders in front of us in the pizza line and naturally I began chatting to him. He was from Wisconsin or Minnesota or something so I vaguely remember talking to him about Chicago and football and religion. The line was long so we talked for what felt like forever. After we all got our pizza, I made a beeline for the door and my new friend followed.
“Hey, can I get your Instagram?” he asked.
And to my surprise, I recited it to him. A girl can’t say no to Instagram followers, can she? I went back and checked his profile the next morning and discovered that he was 1. really hot and 2. engaged. He kind of looked like Nick from Chicago and had 12,000 followers. I followed him back.
When I got back home, I woke Brady up. He was sleeping soundly in bed and I came clamoring in, taking off my jeans and I face planted. I quickly recovered and climbed in bed with Brady.
“Are you feeling better?” I asked in what I thought was a soft and soothing voice, but Brady shushed me.
“I’m feeling okay. A bit more rest and I’ll probably be back to 100%,” he said. “How was your night?”
I was already on top of him and grinding on his penis. We started to have sex and then I thought of something.
“Hey, if you’re planning on proposing please let me know so I can get my nails done.”
“What?” Brady looked at me like I was crazy.
“Proposing at Christmas…” I said.
“I-I’m not ready to propose…” he said back.
We continued and I feel asleep. When I woke up on Sunday morning, Brady was up making breakfast and watching some sort of sports game on tv.
“I feel like shit,” I said, crawling on the couch with Tucker. I drank way too many of those fruity drinks at the tiki bar.
“I figured you would so I’m making you breakfast,” Brady said. Trying to make up for not wanting to propose to me, I guess.
And I know I’m somewhat vegetarian, but the bacon Brady was making was the only thing that could break my hangover.
Despite corresponding with Samantha throughout the week, I was still unclear what was happening for my first day on Monday. I got ready and headed to the office and discovered neither Mike or Samantha was there.
“I’ll show you where I think you’ll be working though,” the girl at the front said.
She took me to a small conference room that only had a long table and chairs. Excuse me?
I texted Samantha to ask what was going on and she said, “I forgot you were starting today. Mike isn’t coming into the office, but I’ll be there later on. We can meet then.”
I left my things in the conference room and walked around, taking in my surroundings. There were about ten private offices and a little shared space with cubicles. If anyone thought I was going to take a cubicle, they were sadly mistaken. There was a cute reception area with a teal circle bench, mirrored sideboards stacked with books and orchids. I saw what looked like awards and certificates in gold frames on the walls.
Since I didn’t know what else to do, I grabbed my things and went to a coffee shop to work. Since I didn’t have anything to work in yet, I walked around some stores. What? Was I supposed to just stay in that office doing nothing?
Samantha finally texted me just before lunch asking where I was. The whole thing was just weird. I spent the remainder of the day setting up my email and laptop and (private) office. Samantha tried to sit me in a corner desk in the room with the cubicles and I asked her if she was sure if it was where I was supposed to be sitting. She wasn’t and had to text Mike. And just as I suspected, I was supposed to have my own office. You have to listen to your intuition. The whole office is really small, less than fifty people total, which is different for me. Mike never showed up.
When I checked my phone at the end of the day, Brady had texted me saying that his parents invited out for dinner and drinks.
“Drinks?” I said back, laughing to myself. Brady’s parents are not people to go out for “dinner and drinks.”
“I don’t know. We are meeting them at 7:30pm.”
Which at least meant Brady wasn’t going to stay at work until midnight.
I got home and changed into heels, put on powder and lipstick and poured a glass of wine since we were “getting drinks” anyway. Brady came home and needed to shower and put on different clothes. He rushed into the shower, but came out and talked to me while he was getting dressed.
“How was your first day?” he asked.
“Unproductive. Mike wasn’t even there and he didn’t give anyone instructions for what I was supposed to be doing. I spent the day decorating my office,” I said.
“Okay. Did you at least get a sense of what the office and people are like?” Brady asked.
I shrugged. “Yeah. Everyone is fine. I’m sure I’ll have more to report later.”
When we got to the restaurant for dinner, Brady’s parents were obviously already there waiting for us. They chose a restaurant in a hotel with an expensive prix fixe menu. I wondered what the occasion was.
I feel like now I can tell what kind of interaction it’s going to be based on Brady’s mom’s initial greeting. This time, we met them in the lobby and Brady’s mom hugged him and asked how he is doing and made small talk before even acknowledging me. So that’s the kind of evening it was going to be.
We sat down and started dinner and I figured I’d just sit there not talking since Brady’s mom had gone out of her way to exclude me. Brady and his dad started talking about Donald Trump, the looming government shutdown, investigations, Twitter, etc. Brady’s mom was chiming in every so often, but mostly just nodding in agreement. I realized that they all disapproved him.
“It’s really just a shame. No one predicted that this is the way this presidency would play out,” Brady’s mom said.
Brady and his dad nodded in agreement.
“Actually,” I butted in, even though I knew I shouldn’t have. “We all knew it was going to be exactly like this. That’s why we didn’t vote for him.”
They all looked at me.
“From a policy standpoint, a lot of them aligned with my views as well,” Brady’s dad said.
“What policy?” I had to know.
“Immigration,” Brady’s dad said, matter-of-factly.
“You are kidding,” I mumbled, just as Brady’s mom started talking, something about Hillary Clinton
“Just because we oppose Donald Trump does not mean we are pro Hillary Clinton,” I said. I couldn’t believe we were even still having this conversation.
Brady’s mom just glared at me and continued talking like I wasn’t even there. They changed the subject soon after that and I decided to keep my mouth shut.
Later on, as we were leaving the restaurant, Brady’s dad fell into step by me.
“You know, we Americans are loyal to our political party. And with any presidency, there are highs and lows. Rights and wrongs. There have been mistakes, but we can only go up from here,” he said.
We? I actually didn’t want to talk about this with him anymore. When we got home though, I sounded off.
“I think it’s so fucking insane how Americans are against immigration as if they are indigenous in the first place,” I said.
What really fucked my night up though is when we were in bed fooling around. I was just in my thong and a ratty old VS Pink tee and Brady was in between my legs making his way down my body. And to my absolute horror, he grabbed a handful of my love handles on each side and grinned at me.
Excuse me? It is probably the rudest thing he’s ever done. Brady is too much of a gentleman to ever comment on my appearance unless it’s gushing praise so I was shocked and completely mortified that he was essentially calling me fat or saying that I have gained weight. I haven’t eaten since.
*Merry Christmas, friends! I’ll see you next week!*