•BRIANNA•
It was already time for the meeting, and Mr. Adrian and I made our way to the meeting room, with him walking a few feet ahead of me. I noticed staff lingering in the hallway, casting curious—and sometimes judgmental—glances in my direction, whispering their opinions about my dress.
“My gosh, what on earth is she wearing?”
“Does she even know the difference between work clothes and other outfits?”
“The dress is too big on her.”
“Well… it doesn’t look that bad on her, actually.”
The comments didn’t bother me. Let them talk—it wouldn’t take money out of my account (not that there’s much in there anyway). I’d turned a deaf ear to opinions like these ages ago.
Mr. Adrian stepped into the meeting room, and I followed behind him. This time, I felt no nervousness, unlike the first time I’d been in here. I’d gotten over that initial anxiety.