“Derek believes in traditional values. The apron helps maintain the right mindset.” I smoothed my hands over the frilly fabric. “Isn’t it darling?
Just like his mother used to wear.”
Derek’s smile froze on his face. Richard shifted uncomfortably. Anita’s eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline.
“Is that so?” Richard asked, looking between us.
“Julia has a unique sense of humor,” Derek said weakly.
The dinner crawled by, Derek growing more uncomfortable with each passing minute.
I served the meal with mechanical precision and only spoke when spoken to.
After the guests left, Derek exploded.
“What was that?” he demanded, loosening his tie with angry tugs. “You’re making me look like some kind of sexist pig!”
I replied with mock innocence: “Me? I’m just living the dream you picked out for me.
Tradition, remember?”
“That’s not what I meant by tradition!” His voice cracked.
“Then what did you mean?” I asked calmly, my smile holding steady. “Because from where I stand, a ‘house uniform’ sends a pretty clear message about your expectations.”
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