Why does Marian act like she’s being forced into this, as if it’s all my fault?
Effie said, “Marian, if you don’t want to go, I’m not going to make you.”
But Marian shot Effie a wounded look and replied, “You say you’re not forcing me, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now? Guilt-tripping me?”
Effie stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words.
How does that even make sense?
Effie tried again, “No, really, if you don’t want to go, I won’t make you. There are plenty of people who’d love the chance.”
She glanced at the rest of the team. “Anyone else interested?”
Almost everyone’s hand shot up.
Effie’s business dinners weren’t like most others. She didn’t invite sleazy old businessmen looking for trouble—her guests were all respectable clients. The dinners were laid-back affairs: everyone relaxed, shared a meal, talked through their thoughts, and the designers would wrap up by summarizing the clients’ needs for the project. After such open conversations, their designs almost always hit the mark.
And, best of all, every time they had one of these dinners, it was at Elliott’s Cozy Room—a favorite local spot, famous for its delicious food and warm atmosphere. Plus, no one had to pick up the tab. A meal there was a social media magnet; every time, their feeds lit up with photos and envy-inducing comments.
Effie nodded. “Alright then, the rest of you, come with me.”
She picked a few more people for the dinner, but deliberately left out Shirley.
Shirley looked like she wanted to protest, but didn’t dare speak up.
Just then, Marian piped up, sounding annoyed. “Wait a minute—you said you wanted me there, but now you’re inviting everyone else and leaving me out?”
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