"Mr. Wellington’s office specified cocktail formal. Dramatic but subdued. An outfit to make a statement." Kim, the fashion stylist sent by Banks to wear me for the event says.
"Statement " I repeat. My voice thick in my own ears
"Yes." She doesn't look at me. Her eyes are busy scanning the dresses that won't fit me even if I lose thirty kg right now
"It's a size six" I point out, also admiring the dress. It's a black silk dress that's exposed a bit at the front but nice. I like it
"The others we have are size eight" She replies like neither will help my case. Then finally, she looks up at me
"I'm not size six or eight" I remind her. Incase my appearance didn't tell her that.
She look at me and I keep my gaze on her.
She sits back down on the new chair whose package nylon I haven't r
