my very best, all-white power suit. My hair slicked back, my heels high, a designer clutch in hand. However, when I got there, all the women were dressed in long-sleeved company shirts and jeans. Even Yvonne, who normally never skipped a designer label, had her blonde hair in a messy bun, and she wore little to no makeup.
“Odette, you’re here!” Yvonne reached out to me, making sure anyone who hadn’t noticed me did, and there was no running from this. The invitation had clearly said formal dress—well, the invitation my mother received had.
“Yes, I am. Sorry, I didn’t get the memo.” I forced a smile, walking up to my stepmother. “I would have much preferred to wear jeans.”
“That’s fine. Please, sit.” She smiled and glanced behind me. “Is your mother here?”
I leaned and shook my head. “No, sorry, you won’t get a chance to embarrass her today.”
She shot me an icy look, and I just turned back to the table of women. “Hello.”
“Ladies, this is my stepdaughter, Odette. Sadly—well, happily, my daughter, Augusta, is currently on her honeymoon.”
“Congratulations to her,” one of them said back.
“Odette, I heard you were good at coding, but you didn’t stick with it, is that true?” another black woman around my age asked.
“I was decent. My father taught me. But that was never my passion, so I didn’t pursue it.”
“Yes, Odette takes after her mother and prefers pageants and the arts.” Yvonne smiled, pouring herself more coffee. “You should have seen her when she was young. She was the cutest little beauty queen. What is your mom always saying? Beauty is just as important as technology.”
“She’s not wrong. What she meant...” I started to say when another person cut in.
“Yeah, she is,” the one beside me spoke again. “What can you do with beauty? Technology affects our daily lives every second of the day.”
“So, does beauty—”
“For the superficial maybe,” the other spoke out. “Getting all dolled up and always trying to look like some supermodel. That’s why guys don’t take us seriously.”
“I’m not trying to say we—”
“That’s why we wore jeans today. To say, women in technology aren’t office showgirls. We are here to work. Just like the guys.”
“Of course, you are—”
“It is so hard to get into this field. I can’t imagine my father owning one of the major tech companies and just refusing to learn anything.”
“Wait, I didn’t refuse—”
Once again, as they spoke, I glanced over to Yvonne, who pretended she didn’t set this up, nor could she stop it. She set this trap for my mother, but it was working perfectly well on me. Did she have to be a real housewife villain every time I saw her? I didn’t understand.
“Odette?”
“Huh?” My attention focused back on them.
“Did you hear us?”
All eyes were on me, and I shook my head. “No, I stopped listening.”
“What?” the woman beside me asked.
I looked at her. “I stopped listening because you were not listening to me.”
“Odette, don’t be rude,” Yvonne finally whispered beside me. “These women work really hard at Etheus.”
“And I came to support them,” I said, looking back at all of them. “Because women in technology are important and should be praised. But that doesn’t mean women who do other things should be put down. Would you rather have women here that do not care about their jobs, or would you rather have the most passionate people around you? My mom and I are passionate about different things than you are. When my mom said beauty is just as important as technology, she meant that everybody has something that is important. Everything has a purpose. Don’t you think?”
None of them said anything.
“Why don’t we order lunch?” Yvonne said to them.
“Yes, why don’t we.” I flipped out my napkin. I had a feeling I was going to be the subject of gossip the moment I left the table, so why not get comfortable and make them feel awkward for a little bit, too.
I stayed and pretended to be interested for another hour before using my show as an excuse to leave. It wasn’t until later tonight, but I didn’t want to stay next to Yvonne for longer than needed.
Sadly, she didn’t feel the same. “I will walk you out,” she said, rising with me.
“Sure.” Why?
She waited until we were at the front of the restaurant before speaking. “Augusta tells me you aren’t answering her calls,” she said, turning back to me. “I never want what is going on between your mother and me to affect you