Forgotten Desires: A Short Story in Aid of the Eve Appeal by Jodi Ellen Malpas Page A

what to wear. Oh no. I give myself an agreeable nod of my head…and another swig of Sauvignon.
    ‘But what will he expect?’ I ask, being pulled back to the here and now when my eyes land on my wardrobe again. Nothing is screaming out to me.
    Tasha laughs. ‘Um…you?’
    ‘You know what I mean. Elegant? Sexy? Conservative? What if it’s not what he wants?’ I drop my arse to the bed and take another long, healthy glug of wine. At this rate, I’ll be half drunk before I even make it to my date.
    And as if she’s heard my thoughts, Tasha speaks up. ‘Are you drinking?’
    My glass halts in mid-air, and I come over all guilty. I don’t know why. Tasha would drink wine for breakfast if it was socially acceptable. ‘Might be.’
    ‘Is that a good idea?’
    Her perfectly reasonable question makes me eye my near empty glass warily. I don’t know. Is it? It also makes me wonder whether what I’m about to do is a good idea. Or is it just utterly stupid? A date? I haven’t been on a date for years, and though this man is my dream guy – everything I want and need – the approach I’m taking might not be. Or it could be. It could be just what I need, and it could also be the start of something amazing. I nod decisively to myself. Yes, the unknown is sometimes daunting, but I’ll never know the benefits unless I give it a whirl. There’s no denying I need some spark in my life – something other than work and necessary but boring chores. At that thought, I glance over to the corner of the bedroom where I dumped my work bag. I have a million emails to answer. Then I reflect back to the state of the kitchen when I sprinted down on my hunt for wine - dirty dishes everywhere waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher. The overflowing laundry basket pops into my mind, too, swiftly followed by an ironing pile that could give Everest a run for its money in the height department. My apprehension and excitement just took a nose dive. Maybe I should cancel and spend the evening catching up on household chores and work. The thought doesn’t thrill me, but, sadly, the feeling of satisfaction when I’m done does . ‘I might cancel.’ I breathe, casting my glass aside and falling to my back on the bed.
    ‘Don’t you dare!’ she barks, startling me. ‘Kelly, come on! You work too hard, and definitely don’t play hard enough. Have a night off, for God’s sake! The world won’t end if your house isn’t clean. And you’re not going to go out of business if you don’t reply to an email the moment it appears in your inbox.’
    I laugh quietly to myself, thinking how well Tasha knows me. She’s right, I know that, but this is real life. ‘The world doesn’t revolve around fantasies.’ I say quietly, almost sadly.
    ‘You’ve neglected your personal life, Kelly. Give yourself a break. Give yourself a chance. Give him a chance.’
    My body deflates and I close my eyes, allowing Tasha’s words to sink deeply into me. She’s right. Life might not revolve around fantasies, but it also doesn’t revolve around working yourself into the ground until there’s nothing left of you to give. There has to be a happy medium. Between everyday mundane chores, and working my fingers to the bone, I’m feeling like there’s less of me to give by the day. ‘So what do I wear?’ I ask, sitting up, feeling resolute and determined all of a sudden. It could be the wine, I’m not sure, but I’m not about to question it right now. I have a date to get ready for. With a hot man.
    ‘Good girl!’ she sings down the line. ‘Go all out. The works. Legs, a little cleavage and the highest heels you own.’
    I chuckle, knowing exactly which heels I’ll be wearing. ‘Black? Tight?’
    ‘Yes!’ she squeals, delighted. Then she goes silent, and if I could see her, I know she’d have a crafty look on her face. What’s she plotting? ‘And no knickers.’ She adds, making me gasp.
    ‘It’s November!’ I’m horrified, and it’s