"There, all done," Paula said, stepping back after finishing her friend's makeup.
Claire looked into the mirror.
Her eyelids shimmered with gold shadow, accented by a subtle wing of liner and a bold swipe of red lipstick.
"Paula, wipe it off. It's too much. I look like I'm trying too hard."
"You're sounding like my grandmother. Red is the color of confidence—it's classic."
"But who am I even trying to impress? If I were going with someone, maybe, but going all by myself..."
"I'm sorry, sweetie, you know with the kids and the house, I just can't tonight. Otherwise, I'd be at the theater with you in a heartbeat. Come on, are we keeping it?"
Claire nodded reluctantly, and Paula beamed at her choice. Claire slipped into a long red dress, pinned up her hair, and called an Uber. Paula headed out shortly after, leaving Claire alone with her thoughts.
The thing was, Claire had been rewarded at work for her performance with two tickets to a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. The problem was she had no one to go with. Her friends were all busy, and her luck with men had been nonexistent lately.
Her relationships never seemed to last. Men moved through her life like revolving doors. In fact, her most recent attempt at dating had ended in a total disaster.
She had met a guy through an app. He suggested dinner, and she agreed. Mark took her to a nice bistro. They ordered entrees, had a great time talking, and then, when the check arrived, Mark blindsided her by announcing he was only paying for his half.
"But I didn't bring my wallet," Claire stammered. "I thought..."
"Not my problem, babe. Look, you're great to talk to, but did you seriously think I was going to foot your bill too?" Mark actually laughed. "So, what's the plan?"
Claire felt a wave of nausea. She wanted the floor to swallow her whole. She had to call Paula and beg her to Venmo Mark the money so he could cover her portion of the tab. Claire had spent that night crying on Paula's couch, recounting the worst date of her life.
***
Claire dropped her coat at the cloakroom and headed up to the mezzanine bar. She bought a glass of champagne and found a spot to stand near the wall.
"Why don't you take a seat at one of the tables? I'm sure your date would prefer you to be comfortable," a voice said.
Claire looked up in surprise at a man standing nearby. "Oh, you're mistaken. I'm here alone. There's no point in taking up a whole table. I'd rather leave it for a couple."
"In that case, why don't we share one? I happen to be here alone, too."
Claire agreed. They took a small table by the window and introduced themselves. His name was Victor. He told her a bit about his life—he was a successful entrepreneur with a logistics company that was currently expanding nationwide.
His wife had left him two years ago for one of his former employees. They didn't have children because they had both been so focused on the business. Victor had built the company from nothing, and his ex-wife had been there in the beginning, helping with the books and the paperwork.
Once the business took off, Victor had tried to reward her. He'd surprised her with a trip to Milan for Fashion Week, booked her into the Bulgari Hotel, and gave her a credit card with no limit so she could enjoy herself. But the gifts hadn't been enough to stop her from having an affair, and eventually, the marriage ended in divorce.
"So, that's my sob story," Victor said with a wry smile. "What about you, Claire?"
Claire shared her own history of dating duds. Victor shook his head, telling her she'd just been crossing paths with losers, not real men.
"You're a catch, Claire. Don't let them get in your head."
The lobby bells chimed, signaling the start of the performance. Victor gallantly offered his arm, and they walked toward the theater doors together.
Suddenly, Claire had an idea. Not wanting the evening to end just yet, she mentioned she had an extra seat right next to her. Victor happily accepted, and they watched the play together.
By the end of the night, Victor asked for her number, promising to call. But knowing her luck, Claire didn't hold her breath. A man like that? She figured she'd never hear from him again.
***
The next day at the office, Claire told her coworkers about Victor and their evening at the theater. Her friends cheered for her, telling her she was finally on the right track. Claire remained skeptical, but she was wrong to be.
Near the end of the day, Victor called and invited her to dinner. He explained that he'd had to rush off for a business meeting right after the play, which was why he hadn't asked her out sooner. Claire was so thrilled that her friends let her duck out of the office early so she could get ready. And just like that, a new romance began.
Victor took her to expensive restaurants and showed her beautiful parts of the city. However, he never invited her to his place, explaining that he was doing a total gut-renovation on his penthouse and was staying in a guest room at a friend's house in the meantime. Claire didn't mind at all; she was more than happy to have him over to her apartment.
It wasn't a palace, certainly. Just a small one-bedroom with a tiny kitchen and bath, but it was cozy enough for her.
"Don't worry, Claire," Victor would say. "Once the renovation is done, we'll be moving into much grander quarters."
One day at work, Claire's friends nudged her. "Look, we see that glowing face of yours every morning. When are we finally going to meet this mystery man?"
"Why do you need to meet him?" Claire teased.
"Because we're your friends! Besides, the way you talk, we're expecting a wedding invitation any day now."
Claire blushed, but she eventually asked Victor if he'd be open to a "meet and greet." To her delight, he was thrilled and asked when he should drop by.
The girls picked a time when their boss, Mr. Sterling, wouldn't be in the office. It was a Wednesday, the day he usually left early to visit his grandkids.
Victor arrived right on time. He was carrying a massive bag filled with gourmet fruit and three different cakes: chocolate, vanilla bean, and a fruit tart.
"Oh, Victor, you shouldn't have! We'll never finish all of this," Sarah exclaimed.
"Ladies, I honestly didn't know which you'd prefer, so I figured I'd play it safe and bring one of everything."
Victor was the picture of charm and gallantry. He served the tea, made sure everyone had a plate, and charmed them all with stories of his business and how he'd met Claire. Her friends were smitten; they were so happy she had finally found "the one."
However, after that meeting, Victor seemed to change overnight. Suddenly, he was drowning in work. His dates with Claire became fewer and farther between.
"Hey," Paula asked her one afternoon. "Why the long face lately? Did you and Victor have a fight?"
"No, he's just slammed. Something with the business. He's always at the office, and I just really miss him. I'm dying to see him."
"Ugh, these high-powered types. Get used to it, honey—it'll be like this after the wedding, too. Anyway, what are you so chipper about, Julie?" she asked another coworker.
"Did you meet a guy too?"
"Oh, girls, I did. And he is incredible!" Julie gushed.
"Wait! You kept this from us? You have to let us meet him," Paula commanded.
"Sorry, I can't yet. He's very private. Oh, he just texted! 'Hey, babe.' Girls, can you cover for me? I have to go." Her friends laughed and let Julie head out early.
One day, after Julie had scurried out early again, Claire noticed she'd left her phone on her desk. Thinking she was being helpful, Claire decided to drop it off at Julie's place on her way home. She pulled up to Julie's apartment building and was about to get out of the car when her entire body went numb.
There was Victor, walking arm-in-arm with Julie.
Her heart physically ached. Claire dropped the phone on the passenger seat, started the car, and drove away as fast as she could.
***
The next morning, Julie walked in with her usual sunny disposition.
"Morning! Claire, you're the last one in today. Usually, you're the early bird," Sarah noted.
Claire walked silently to Julie's desk and slammed the phone down in front of her.
"Hey! Watch it! This thing is expensive. Are you crazy?"
"Not as crazy as someone who steals other people's boyfriends," Claire snapped. The office went silent. Claire laid it all out—how she'd seen Julie and Victor together.
"Well, if you must know, he likes being with me much better," Julie said, lifting her chin. "He told me so himself. He said he was planning on breaking up with you anyway. I guess it's just easier now that you know."
Claire slapped Julie across the face, hard, and ran out of the building in tears. She took a couple of days off. She couldn't face the office. Paula and Sarah came over to her place to comfort her, and they stopped speaking to Julie entirely. But eventually, the weekend ended, and Claire had to go back.
It was a big day. A new manager was starting, as Mr. Sterling was finally retiring.
"Hey! Did you tell everyone to give me the cold shoulder?" Julie screamed as soon as Claire walked in.
"They're adults, Julie. They can decide who they want to talk to."
"Is that so? I don't think so, you bitter bitch," Julie said, before intentionally "tripping" and pouring her coffee all over Claire's white silk blouse.
"Are you insane? We have a meeting in five minutes!"
"The only insane person here is you," Julie smirked, walking back to her desk.
"Girls, cover for me! I'm running to the shop next door!"
Luckily, there was a boutique right around the corner. Claire grabbed a blouse and went to pay, only to realize she'd left her purse at her desk in the chaos.
"Allow me to take care of that for her."
Claire turned to see a well-dressed man standing behind her.
"Oh, thank you so much! I work right in the building next door. I'll pay you back immediately, I promise."
As it turned out, they were heading to the exact same place. The man was David, the new manager. Claire was mortified, but David didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he was quite taken with her and asked her out to dinner right then and there. This time, Claire was headed for a relationship that was built to last.
Julie, however, wasn't so lucky. A few weeks later, Claire found her crying in the breakroom. Her heart softened, and she asked what was wrong.
It turned out Victor was a professional con artist. He had told Julie he was building a custom home for them.
"Look at this, babe. This is going to be your kitchen," he'd say, showing her glossy architectural photos.
"Wow! It's incredible, Victor!"
But Victor had a catch. He told her they needed to sell Julie's condo to fund the final stages. He convinced her to sign the title over to him to "speed up the paperwork."
"But where will we live while it's being finished?" Julie had asked.
"Honey, I'm sending you on a grand tour of Europe. Italy? You got it. Germany, France... wherever you want."
The names made Julie's head spin. She could already see herself lounging in luxury, imagining the envy in her friends' eyes. But there was nothing to envy.
While Julie was at work, Victor had flipped the condo, sold it for cash, and vanished with the money. Julie had come home to find a stranger moving in, who showed her the legally signed and notarized deed.
She went to the police, but there was little they could do since she had signed the documents over to him voluntarily. It was a bitter, heartless gift from the man she thought was her future.
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