Love Expectations (Season 1 of Nata and Phillip's Romance) ✔️

2. 'Didn't seem relevant'

Natalia

I miss being who I really am. I even miss my lab coat that I try to wear as little as possible when I'm at work. The stilettos I borrowed might look gorgeous, but my calves are mooing, and my toes are gripping the slippery leather for dear life. Although I love adding something to my height and pretending I'm not five four, comfort is of utmost importance when I spend seventy-five percent of my time in the lab on my feet.

The hall around us undulates with streams of bodies, din of voices, and waves of smells from finger foods to colognes to BO. I tug my skirt down. Tonight, I was supposed to feel like a superwoman in the first designer dress I've ever worn. Instead I feel like a fish out of water without my daily uniform of jeans or slacks and tops. I'm wearing a silky off-the-shoulder red number that requires a strapless push-up bra and a thong small enough not to show under the smooth area of my derrière.

"Stop fidgeting already," Samson whispers into my ear. I can feel my smile that I've been plastering on throughout the evening wilt. Samson's hand glides across my exposed shoulder blades and rests at the curve of my back. He squeezes my hip and digs his fingers into me a little too hard. "You look the best you've had in years. Just let the dress do the work. Don't spoil it."

I know this is a compliment, but somehow it makes me want to rip the dress off and get back into my casual garb. A tired-looking man with an alumni lanyard joins us at one of the tall bar tables. "So glad you came." He shakes Samson's hand and then mine. "Thank you for agreeing to talk to me."

"Sure." I don't recognize him, but Samson clearly knows the guy. They launch into a conversation I tune out as I tug on the front of the piece again before it exposes my underwear.

The dress glides down, but now it stretches so tight over me it emphasizes every curve of my body. Red goes well with my dark brown hair, but the number of stares I've gotten through the evening makes me inwardly curse my best friend Kate for talking me into renting this gown. We might both be the same height and clothing size, but with her proportions, she looks good in pretty much everything. My body is a puzzle to dress.

My sister used to joke that I have an hourglass shape, but only if you take the bottom half of a rather large hourglass and the top of a much smaller one and merge them together. It's not the dress's fault. It's not Kate's fault. It's not even Samson's fault. I'm the sole reason why this expensive piece isn't looking its best.

I'd much rather spend tonight re-running my calibration curve to make sure my particles are not too diluted this time, than smile and waste an evening on polite chatter with people I haven't seen in years and might not ever see again in my life. Even though I went to school here at UChicago, and Samson did his degree in Berkley, he insisted we attend my reunion to 'broaden the connections in our scientific community.' Samson's fingers dig a little bit deeper into my flesh. I lift my eyes to his, silently asking, "What?"

He frowns at me and returns his charming grin to the man opposite us. "We'd love for you to visit our lab," he says to him. His thumb taps my back, urging me to chime in.

"Yeah, sure." I hope I'm not agreeing to give away my firstborn.

"Marvelous," says the guy with the lanyard. "What's your email address?"

"Let me give you mine, and I'll pass the info to Natalia." Samson takes the other man's phone and types into it.

With another polite handshake accompanying his goodbye, the stranger leaves, and I face Samson. "What did I just agree to?"